


The Production Line

by TheProducer



Category: The Production Line
Genre: Bondage, Inflation, Latex, Rubber, Transformation, expansion, immobile
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 67,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProducer/pseuds/TheProducer
Summary: Prolouge for The Production Line series.  An industrial fetish work involving expansion, inflation, latex/rubber tf, bdsm aspects, objectification and permanent transformation.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Prolouge

Part 1 of 11

The Production Line

Prologue

Keilar Tooms finished putting on his uniform, hard hat and protective suit in the locker room at the organic compound plant. The tall well built man took a moment to gaze at his reflection in the small mirror of his locker. His closely cropped black hair was hardly visible under the protective helmet, and his small octagonal glasses sat upon his beak like nose framing his frost blue eyes. He pulled on his gloves and closed his locker door.

A veteran hydro-engineer who specialized in viscosity and surface tension; Keilar had found his skills to be in high demand. He had been reassigned to this area of operations after his instituted safety standards at his last assignment resulted in a production and retention increase of their main product.

That had been a synthetic nanolube plant, specializing in the protective self replenishing coatings used on virtually all machines and electronics. It had been rewarding and engaging work.

Now he had been transferred to an organics plant, definitely different. He knew the concept was the same, but it had taken him a year to really wrap his head around the new operations. The factory was coming down into a maintenance cycle, which meant that today he would have to help supervise the storage and transportation tank swap.

He had some new stock coming in this week, and he also needed to make sure that the new receptacles were sized properly.

As he left the locker room he walked down the factory floor, ordinarily it would be a lot noisier, but production was down which meant the normal hubub that came from the production of complex organic compounds was reduced. On his way to the storage wing of the factory he was halted by the squat round figure of the production foreman.

“Bad news Tooms. I just got back from our new equipment inventory. They sent us unprocessed storage receptacles.”

Tooms didn’t stop walking towards the storage wing and spoke to the short rotund man tersely.

“So send them back, and put in a requisition for some proper processed receps.”

The foreman chuckled nervously.

“I..uh...I tried. They said that they don’t have any available to send. They have a material shortage. They told me that with the maintenance cycle they had to send us something, since we can just process them here at the factory.”

Tooms stopped and sighed.

“Let me guess, Davies is still out on sick leave? And I’m the only one qualified in the process. Fucks sake Anthony, I had a lot I wanted to get done today, not to mention this week. Processing all the receps will kill my next two days at least.”

The shorter man shrugged.

“I’m sorry Tooms, but you need them finished sooner rather than later, and you’re the only one certified.”

The engineer groaned. He’d been certified in processing biological and nanolube receptacles back when he was an undergrad, in order to pay for his advanced degree. It was a blue collar job, and not one that he really thought he’d have to do again. But to be honest, he was very good at it; no one on the floor had the expertise around a bonding stick, nano weave and stimulation nub like he did. He turned and began to walk towards the other end of the building, where the machine and parts shops were.

“Thanks again Tooms!”

Anthony called after him. Tooms didn’t answer, instead he quickened his pace.

A quick run through the sanitation fields and he was in the long narrow hallway leading to the different cleaning and alteration rooms. At the far end was the supply room, and from the low murmuring he heard from within, contained the new receptacles that had absolutely trashed his plans. Before he grabbed his first one for sanitation and processing he set up one of the nearby nano crafting rooms for his use. He punched up a listing on his datapad for the current list of required receptacles and decided to start with a ubiquitous storage tank. He certainly didn’t want to start with something like a distilling flask or something as complicated. No, a storage tank was just perfect. They were the easiest to manipulate and would be a good way to warm up his his old skills.

He looked around at the set up, along with the location of his long metallic workbench and it’s location relative to the door. Next he checked his supply of sealant and the charge on the nearby matter accelerator. Once he was satisfied that all his tools and equipment were in easily reachable places, he locked the wide door open and then walked to the end of the hall toward the large, solid steel sliding door housing the receptacles. He undid the padlock on the door and entered his personal identification code into the console on the door.

The console briefly flashed his name and identification number, and he heard the large bolt on the inside of the door click open.

Immediately the murmuring ceased.

There was a slow whirring noise as the door slowly was rolled sideways by its internal electric motors revealing the storage room within, about the size of an average family dining room. It was divided by small partitions on either side of the door, inside which were housed the girls.

No, receptacles. Keilar mentally told himself. Sure these had been women once, but through a whole host of different circumstances they were now designated as BIRs, or Biological Industrial Receptacles. With all the advances in technology, the manipulation of biological material had been the next obvious goal. Originally BIRs had been a profession, but soon the number of volunteers for what was seen to be easy and extremely pleasurable work had made it so cheap as to be nearly economically non viable.

Keilar had never tried it, men made poor receptacles something about the rigidity of their frames and musculature; but according to everything he’d read, it was the height of pleasure.

These days though, to be designated a BIR usually meant that you’d gotten on the wrong side of the law. It was now a permanent alteration, what with changing back being so expensive; that nearly everyone in the program was there under a court order. There were still one or two freaks though. Those people who were really hedonistic and into the concept, some suicidal types sometimes, even those deep in debt or just fed up with the rat race in general. It was still legal to sign your life away for what was essentially eternity in bliss. Once you were processed into a compatible receptacle you were pretty much indestructible and immortal. The nano sealant was self replicating, and no receptacle had ever “expired.” Indeed the first permanent one processed was still in service, and that had been over seventy years ago.

All this passed through Keilars head as moved from stall to stall, reviewing the females who would soon be storing, refining or distilling various bio chemicals. They had all been gagged with a black mask latex mask covering their face, but for two small holes enabling them to breath through their nose. Below their masks was a thick metal collar which was fixed to a track running along the ceiling by a chain. Other than that they were completely nude.

While they had all come from various facilities, the universal truth was that it had only been one week since their designation as BIRs. It was federal law that they be delivered in that time, as any longer was deemed cruel and unusual punishment. Also their nutrition pellet that they were given to sustain themselves in the meantime only lasted for two weeks.

After reviewing the stalls Keilar realized that he needed to process all of them this week, otherwise he would be subject to a violation of federal law. He sighed internally and punched up the factory requirements on his wristpad. Two storage tanks at least needed to be made to replace the ones that were being shipped out that week. So he’d make three then, one of each regulation size.

Keilar then pulled up plans for the factories planned expansion. It would require certain new pieces of manufacture, and while he could guess at what some of them would need to be, a few others would only be found later down the line.

“And we can’t wait to convert these BIRs…”

He muttered to himself. He’d have to try to anticipate the factories needs. At any rate he could go ahead and convert all the BIRs, and if they didn’t have a need for them, they could just be sold off to one of the supply houses.

Keilar continued to slowly mutter under his breath.

“Hmmm, lets see. One retort flask for sure. A condenser, so an Erlenmeyer and Van Hausen to go along with it....”

He grimaced, that was going to take a long time. He looked back at his list. That left two without a designation.

He stared down the line of stalls.

“Well I could just get started now and ask the plant manager later, and if he doesn’t say anything then...I guess it’s just more storage flasks.”

Keilar walked back to the first stall and looked down at its occupant.


	2. Mk 1 Storage tank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar Tooms converts a convict into a Mk 1 Storage tank

The Production Line

BIR 1465: Mk 1 Storage Tank

Keilar looked down at the occupant in stall number 1. According to the data sheet, Seline Tiere had been a young corporate embezzler who had opted for conversion to a Biological Industrial Receptacle (BIR) rather than serve the 35 year prison sentence passed down at her trial.

A brief overview of her specifications sheets told Keilar all he needed to know. At an even six feet tall with a curvy figure she had more than enough body mass to fill the space of one of the Mk 1 storage tanks that needed construction.

Keilar punched in the move order for BIR 1465, as the chain slowly tightened lifting Seline off of the floor slowly. She appeared to feel the inexorable tug for the chain located on the automated track above her and rose to her feet on her own, rather than be pulled slowly up by the chain. She didn’t attempt to cover her sizable chest like some had, that was either her pride or being nude for a few days had become commonplace to her.

The computer sensed that it’s charge had risen and above BIR 1465 the track began to slowly pull her forward. She walked unsteadily; pulled along slowly and guided down the hallway by the track. From within the latex mask covering her face Keilar though he could hear a few questioning murmurs. This new receptacle seemed to be a bit vocal.

Within a few minutes the two walked into the nano crafting room that Keilar had already prepared for work. BIR 1465 was guided to the center of the room where the chain stopped. Seline looked around.

Well look was the wrong word, she couldn’t see out of the shiny black latex hood, likely she was just curious what would happen next. Keilar slowly stepped into the baggy coveralls and equipped himself with a darkened respirator. It wouldn’t do to expose himself too much to the particles he was about to play with in this room.

He stepped behind the tall, pale skinned woman and unclipped the chain from her collar. She recoiled from him slightly, but didn’t move.

Next, Keilar took hold of one of her arms and guided her towards the wall of the room. The BIR was at first reluctant, almost resistant but then let herself be led along. Arrayed along the wall were various restraining devices and a bench.

The bio-engineer courteously set the now trembling woman down into a seating position on the bench, before clamping her arms in restraints even with her head on either side. He did the same moments later with her feet, using manacles on the floor.

Keilar stood back, ensuring that BIR 1465 (formerly known as Seline) was secure before closing and locking the soundproof door of the crafting room. He didn’t think “Seline” would make too much noise, but it was common courtesy to the rest of the factory workers.

He then walked back to his work subject and slowly removed her hood.

The light flooded Selines vision as she struggled to adjust. She’d been masked and gagged at her sentencing hearing, and this was the first time she’d been able to see or talk for what to her had seemed an eternity, but had in actuality only been two days. Once her eyes had adjusted she looked at Keilar.

Her hair had been shaved at the sentencing, buzzed down to almost the scalp, leaving only a dark shadow atop her head. She swallowed nervously as and then spoke, meeting Keilars gaze as she did so.

“Um, thank you? I’m Seline.”

Keilar turned away and walked to his tool bench, placed several items on a wheeled cart before returning to the restrained Seline.

“I just, is it about to start now?”

Keilar didn’t like this part. He hadn’t removed her mask and gag out of courtesy, he had to do it before he could begin. A result though was that the BIRs viewed it as an act of compassion or mercy and then were a bit more docile for what was the start of the conversion. It was also the most difficult part, and anything he could do to ease it along would only make this go faster. He had done this before.

He met her gaze as he rolled the cart back in front of her snapping on a pair of thick rubber gloves. Then as he checked his molecular bonder again he spoke.

“No, not yet. We just need to do some prep work. Open your mouth please.”

Seline drew back against the wall, eyeing Keilar.

“I guess it’s out of the question for me to ask you to let me go.”

Keilar nodded.

“Yep.”

He reached forward and gently, but firmly, grabbed her jaw and pried open her mouth with a gloved hand. Keilar had read a few books about doctors and their bedside manner, he had found over the course of his career that if he adopted it, his conversions tended to go smoother and feature less resistance.

“Ok then, you’re going to feel a little tickling sensation. Nothing to worry about.”

Keilar entered the specifications for “Mk 1 Storage tank” onto his molecular bonder, and then stuck the conical brass tipped tube into BIR 1465s compliant, waiting mouth and pressed the trigger. There was a wet hiss as Keilar nimbly and expertly sprayed the inside of Selines mouth, coating it’s surfaces in a pliant nanolatex. He knew what happened next.

Seline felt all sensations in her mouth tickle for a moment then deaden, then the feeling began to spread down her throat and into her chest. She spoke, her voice muffled by the numbness and rubberized coating in her mouth.

“Thith feelth thwange. Ech, meth voith!”

Keilar nodded.

“Yeah, right now the molecules of nanolatex are bonding with your interior organs, assisting them while decreasing your own bodily functions. If you notice about…

Keilar glanced at his watch.

“...now. You aren’t breathing. That’s the latex doing it for you, respiring on a molecular level all across it’s surface.”

The bio-engineer got down on his knees at crotch level. Seline was glancing around quickly, trying to come to grips with both being unable to breath and not needing to. She didn’t notice Keilar move closer to her crotch as a result until he spoke up.

“Try to relax, just doing the same thing here.”

Seline let out a muffled yelp followed by a kind of high pitched keen as her shaven labia was parted by Keilars tender hand, then sprayed again. Unlike her mouth however, the tingling was followed by a warm heat building in her loins as the nanolatex moved inward. She had barely enough time to moan in uncontrollable pleasure when she felt Keilar pushing her backward, forcing her to recline and exposing her round well shaped ass.

A second later followed by a hiss the sensation was doubled and Seline moaned again as the same heated arousal pushed up her asshole. She closed her eyes in pleasure, losing herself in the sensation.

“Thith feelth tho good!”

Seline continued to moan, trying in vain to rub her thighs together and pulling at her restraints.

“Mmmmmnnnhhhh.”

Keilar had moved back across the crafting room to the wall and was rolling over a chest high pressurized tank of inert fluid. He had also withdrawn three plastic sealed packages from a drawer under the workbench and placed them upon his work cart.

Keilar continued to watch Seline twist and writhe. She could feel the coating working through her, the heat from her loins and butt was moving up to her core while the tingling numbness worked through her chest and out through her extremities. Her pleasure seemed to plateau after a little bit and she regained enough of her control to look over at Keilar, the large tank of liquid, then back to Keilar.

“Wath ith thah for?”

Keilar patted the tank, a hollow metallic ringing coming from it.

“Well we’re about ready to get started converting you.”

Technically she was already mostly converted Keilar thought. Usually they got more attentive and less distracted by the sensations when their inner body had been mostly, if not completely coated in the nanolatex.

Seline appeared cautious and somewhat fearful.

“Can you pweath fo a litthle bith? Gith me thom alone thime?”

She glanced down at her thighs and groin while giving Keilar a pleading look. He smiled in what he hoped was a sympathetic way and shook his head before offering up another white lie.

“No sorry, we need to act now before the numbing wears off. It’s easier that way.”

Seline shook her head in a violent negation and raised her voice.

“No! I thon’t wanth thoo. Pleath! Thon’t thoo thith!”

Keilar sighed and reached up to switch off the auditory mics on his mask and activating the noise cancellation. He’d heard it all before a dozen times or more. Girls from all walks of life pleading and offering anything for him to stop; but that wasn’t his fault. It was theirs, or maybe the court systems. He wasn’t at fault. Just a man doing his job. Besides, some day they might still be restored, they would probably outlive him after all.  
He could see BIR 1465s lips still moving, she looked like she was really getting riled up, pulling at her restraints. Keilar sighed and tore open the plastic seal on one of the packages and extracted a thick rubber pipe about one foot long and one inch in diameter. It tapered down to a rounded smooth point at one end, and at the other ended in a threaded joint with a closable valve. In the middle of the pipe, in a ring around the exterior was the small nanolatex seal that would enclose and seal tight against whatever he pushed it flush to. Keilar applied a quick coating of lubricant before turning to his project. He saw BIR 1465 notice the tube and continue to shake her head, and while he couldn’t hear her he did know what she was saying.

No.

Time to put an end to that thought Keilar as he approached her. She tried to shrink away from him but was utterly incapable due to her restraints. As he gripped her chin, bringing her mouth around he saw her try to close it in a final token of resistance. But by this time the nanolatex had loosened and numbed her jaw muscles, making even this act impossible.

Keilar tilted BIR 1465s chin back facilitating an easier insertion and then slid the tube down its throat. He was concentrating, easing the tube slowly through the mouth and then into the throat of the storage tank to be. It was polite, he thought, but also prevented any damage and always made for a good seal. He relaxed when he saw the seal make contact with BIR 1465s nanolatex coated lips. Once the two touched the material of the seal reacted with the slick material and began to spread out, completely sealing and subsequently erasing what had just seconds before, been a human mouth. It then slowly began to spread further across the subjects cheeks.

There was a limited window now, Keilar knew. He had to act fast and insert the other two valves. Reaching back up to the ceiling he grabbed the chain from before and clipped it back onto the collar of his subject, reeling it in to a very tight tension on the chain before undoing the arm and leg restraints and stepping back. The BIR acted exactly how he expected.

She hopped up and used both hands to try to pull the valve free of her mouth, which was impossible of course, since her mouth no longer existed. While she was preoccupied with this Keilar prepped the next pipe and valve. It was almost identical in construction to the first, except much larger. It was two inches in diameter compared to the originals one and half again as long. He then withdrew and prepped a second identical pipe and placed both on his rolling cart.

The bio-engineer then grabbed Seline and maneuvered her to stand near a pair of the floor manacles. She was no doubt angrier and panicking, but the nanolatex had done it’s work, and her actions were sluggish and languid. She even tried to hit him but it was little more than a light push that did nothing. After clipping her ankles into the restraints again and knelt down behind her and grabbed the rubber pipe off of the cart.

Gripping her buttocks to cancel resistance he eased the massive head of it into her now pliant and flexible rear hole. Despite being the larger pipe, this one slid in much easier than the first and soon the seal made contact with the nanolatex and began it’s slow spread. Working quickly, Keilar grabbed the final pipe and valve.

The BIR saw him and tried to pinch her thighs closed, but was prevented by the overhead chain and her manacles. He was just out of her reach, and then slowly moved in. The nanolatex had done a number on what had been a smooth and rounded labia. It had swollen, nearly doubling in size both from arousal and it’s own changes. The head of the pipe parted it’s folds easily, aided by the lubrication and quickly slid home, sealing tight against it.

The sensation of the phallic like entrance of the pipe proved to me too much for what was left of Seline. The pleasure from before hadn’t dissipated, merely plateaued below a climax. The steady inward thrust of the rubber sent her right over the edge and an orgasm unlike anything she had experienced crashed over her.

Keilar saw his soon to be storage tanks legs and calves spasm and shudder in pleasure. Ok then, hard part done. It was just a waiting game followed by a final few steps after this to give this new tank it’s finished shape. He reached around and undid both of the BIRs manacles and stood, turning his mics back on and his noise cancellers off.

The became aware of the squeaking sound of nanolatex rubbing against itself, likely from the seal in the rear of the BIR. He also could hear the faint moaning exhibited by every one of the conversions in this stage. For whatever reason, likely a holdover from when this was a reversible procedure, the vocal cords and larynx remained intact and were still fed some air by the nanolatex coated lungs. So all the BIRs tended to vocalize a little, albeit much muffled.

Keilars experience told him that he had about ten minutes now before he could progress, but he did have one thing to do. I was the only thing he did that deviated from procedure, and while it didn’t go against regulations, he felt it was only polite to offer to any of the conversions who hadn’t given him an especially hard time.

BIR 1465 seemed to be coming down from her bliss somewhat, though her changes now meant that she would simply return to her plateau from before. Refractory periods were a thing of the past for her now. Keilar waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention.

“Hey, you’ve done a good job and been a real trooper. We’re going to wrap this up in a few minutes but I’m going to let you decide some things, since it’s the last things you’ll get to pick for probably quite a long time.”

He could tell that she was still pretty hazy but appeared to be listening. Keilar gestured to his eyes.

“Do you want to be able to look see? Or be sealed in?”

He covered his eyes to make his point.

1465 appeared to think for a moment and then shook her head.

“You want to black it out?”

The BIR nodded.

“Okay then, one last thing.”

Keilar walked behind her to the huge tank he had wheeled out of the corner of the room.

“You’re getting a lot of this, where do you want it? You’ll get it from all three valves eventually, but from what I’ve read the first time is definitely a different experience. You can pick just one, two, or all three.”

1465 hung her head for a bit before looking back up. Keilar noticed that the nano coating from the seals was spreading more as the coating on the inside of her body made it’s way through to her skin and met with the spreading coating from the seals.

“I’m going to hold up fingers. Nod or shake your head if it’s what you want.”

He held up one finger and was met with a shaking head, he held up two and saw the same.

“Really?”

Keilar held up three fingers and Seline hesitantly nodded.

“All three huh? Go big or go home I guess. Ok then I’ll start setting up the piping. Thanks again for being such a good conversion, it makes our lives and yours easier here.”

He glanced at his watch again.

“You’ve got about eight minutes. If I loosen the chain some will you behave yourself?”

Seline nodded vigorously.

Reaching a control panel Keilar slackened the chain enough to allow 1465 to walk around in a small three foot square space. She immediately felt around with her hands, exploring her changed body while the bioengineer busied himself with the three hoses he’d need.

In about three minutes the spreading rubber covered Selines eyes as she stared down at her new shiny pitch black rump. She tried walking around, but the protruding pipe made this difficult, giving her a pronounced waddle. Something also was different about her limbs, She was not as flexible as she had been. Her dimensions hadn’t changed but she felt very slow and lethargic, like she had eaten a big meal.

Soon the black coating had smoothed over her whole head, deadening all but the loudest sounds to her and began to slide down her neck to meet up with the coating rising from her waist. She almost came a second time when her breasts and then nipples were covered, it was a pinching, gripping sensation that would have hitched her breath in her throat if she still could breath.

Soon it was over. From head to toe, Seline had completely disappeared beneath a shiny black skin. Only the small definitions of her facial structure remained, and possibly only an old boyfriend could tell who she had once been. She continued to blindly feel herself while waiting.

Keilar meanwhile was cleaning up the area, moving the cart back to the corner, putting away his tools and depositing the plastic wrappings in the trash. He then walked up to begin the final stage and tapped 1465 on the shoulder.

The shiny black figure jumped in surprise, then extended a hand willingly. Keilar took it and unclipped the collar from the chain, then removed the entire thing by triggering the release on his wrist computer. He then guided his charge to the center of the room.

“Why can’t they all be this well behaved?”

He said to himself as he returned with the three hoses and began to thread them onto the tubes using a wrench. After all were sealed he returned to the tank and began to enter data from a series of menus into the built in computer.

Model: Storage Tnk Mk1  
Capacity: 550 Imp Gal  
Form: Spherical  
Material: Org Procss Nanrbr  
Initial form set flow: Yes  
Input No: 3  
Time Til Max Capacity: 15 minutes  
Countdown: 10 sec

EXECUTE

Keilar paused then walked once more around what was about to become another storage flask for the factory. He checked visually for any weak seams and then opened all three valves on the flasks new pipes. 1465 seemed to reach down for a moment to feel what he was doing, but he stopped her and moved her hands to her sides, where she kept them. He then moved back to the waiting inert fluid tank and punched the execute button, the moved away to the corner of the room to watch, counting down in his head.

Seline fidgeted and tried to order the thousand thoughts swirling through the haze of arousal and sexual heat in her brain. It was all coming to an end now, any moment, she’d just be a thing. Already was a thing? What even was she? What had she been? What would she be? Would she ever be her old self a-

Then the onrushing flood of the first few of 550 gallons of inert fluid drove all thoughts from her brain. All at once the fluid surged down her throat and up her lower openings, making it’s way to the empty spherical void in the center of her body. She had at this point been essentially completely converted over to the nanolatex material, which had retained her original exterior form and written in a few more nerve endings, but had completely negated everything else. Organs, blood, tissue, all was now a liquid and semi rigid rubber like material awaiting the trigger from the incoming fluid.

And on it came.

It filled the hollow sphere in her belly within roughly the first ten seconds, and the sensation was unlike anything that Seline had felt. Then it began to slowly squeeze and compress the rest of her form which itself began to shrink in around the growing sphere of her belly, lending it’s own material to the surface of the container.

1465 collapsed to her knees as successive orgasms wracked her body spasming her legs and calves. Her belly soon extended roundly from her, at first a simple protrusion, then as Keilar watched, rounding out more and more. First one foot from her, then two. Her belly continued to expand outward in a perfectly spherical fashion, soon it resembled a yoga ball in size with no indication of slowing.

The weight of the liquid in her soon forced Seline to rest her belly on the cold concrete floor. The nanolatex reserves in her body fed into the increasing sphere of the growing storage tank, increasing her circumference and her structural integrity. Rather than dimpling however, like an exercise ball might when in contact with the floor and under such weight, her belly retained a perfectly spherical shape, with a rubbery yet rigid outer form.

When her gravid belly was three feet in diameter the growth began to slacken off, though this was mainly due to the flow rate remaining the same while the container had increased drastically in size. 1465 stood on shaky legs, her last climax had returned to a plateau that wavered on the cliff of orgasm.

She ran her hands over the still swelling globe of her form, marvelling at its unyielding roundness. She had expected it to be soft, but there was absolutely no give in it. Due to the weight of her growing form she had been forced to lean over her rotund stomach, but now realized the continued growth was pushing her back into a more rigid standing position. Her globular belly was easily four feet across now, and was starting to taper off.

A few minutes later and it was complete. The pump shut off and the pleasurable sensation eased slightly. It was still there however, just not as pronounced. The sensation of the liquid inside her, sloshing around combined with her utter immobility would have made Seline wet had she the capacity.

Keilar stood and did a quick walk around of BIR 1465. He ran a scan tool over her form and was satisfied to see everything within the expected code for a storage tank. He then moved around and closed all three valves, locking the 550 gallons inside the new tank. As he did so he could hear the moaning and whimpering that accompanied the new tank gently rocking itself forward and back to move the liquid within. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere, so he left the room to find a suspension rig so that his latest creation could be moved to it’s new home.

Keilar soon returned, pushing a large round metal hoop suspended by chains leading to a block and tackle, then to the ceiling track.

After some careful and strenuous maneuvering Keilar rolled the sphere of BIR 1465 over the rim of the hoop so that what was left of Seline was laying at the top face down. Selines arms and legs lay as close as she could get them to her sides, but they still were splayed out by about forty five degrees by her rigid girth.

The bio-engineer then pulled the chains through the block and tackle so that the hoop moved a third of the way up selines belly before it slowly lifted her whole form off of the floor. Keilar pulled a little more on the stubborn chain to give about 1 foot of clearance, the massive new storage tank swaying gently in front of him. As he watched, his new creation rubbed her hands around what she could reach of her round form, seemingly lost in bliss.

He smiled at a job well done, then punched a move order into the wall computer and submitted a conversion report to the company logistics and the department of corrections. The hoop carrying the new storage tank slowly trundled out of the room and through the opening door, taking a left out of the crafting wing.

Inside what remained of Selines mind, the sensations were really starting to assert themselves. She was only dimly aware that she was in motion, all her thought was dedicated to the contented lustful feeling of being so filled, like after a big meal or a particularly vigorous fuck. The liquid in her lapped around caressing her body from the inside with it’s motion. The fear from before was a fast fading memory, one that was being replaced by a small but growing hunger.

Maybe she could reach her valves? She moved one arm up towards her mouth, it was difficult. The rubber had really taken her flexibility down a peg. She groaned for a moment, straining with the effort. After a moment she gave up and went back to rubbing what she could reach.

Seline then mentally surrendered, giving over to her sensations and an insatiable longing for more substance to be pumped into her. She let out her longing and desire in the only way she could, with a low muffled,

“Uunnnhhhhhhhh”

Keilar watched the product of his labor turn the corner, still rubbing itself with all three valves ready for service. That was it then, he thought. BIR 1465 would be taken to the floor. There she would be emptied of her inert fluid and then filled with whatever liquid needed storing. It may be solvents, organic solutions or mixtures, maybe even just plain water.

But that didn’t concern him at the moment. That was one down, but he had eight more to go.


	3. Mk 4 Florence Flask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar Tooms takes on the next conversion in his workload.

Bio-engineer Keilar Tooms busied himself with cleaning his work space while he thought of the next conversion he would have to do. As he coiled the neutral fluid hoses, he thought about the remaining unprocessed vessels. It was as he was storing the cable for the molecular bonding gun that he remembered something he’d learned during his first years in the business.

Find the girls with the worst temperaments, and convert them to the easier to manufacture equipment. How could he have forgotten?

He thought about BIR 1465 that was now slowly trundling away. He’d wasted the opportunity. That one had offered only a token resistance, he should have done something more difficult than a storage flask.

He decided to read the bios now and find whichever girl to be was likely to be the most difficult. They would be the one he converted into the Mk 4 Florence, which was undoubtedly the easiest. He also realised that if he was going to do a conversion into an industrial titration flask, he’d be using a mold, which was needed for the volumetric precision. Nanolatex as a material was very ubiquitous but for some things a different technique was called for.

Keilar began to read through the short biographies of the various unprocessed BIRs (Biological Industrial Receptacles), the “women” in the storage room. They were basically company property now, but he really needed to optimize his time in their finishing into finished containers. By the time he arrived at the molding room he had finished his brief read and took stock of what he knew as he began his equipment set up.

Of all the unprocessed BIRs only one was a volunteer. Some kinky wacko for sure. They would be the least trouble and probably the most eager to be converted. She would be his last one, since she’d maybe even help him with the process. That would be the condenser he had to make for sure then. Condensers were very difficult to manufacture, and a willing BIR was rare. He’d make this one complex and perfect.

The other thing he’d picked up on was that except for the “Volunteer” as he was now thinking of her; all the others had been sentenced. But there were a few differences to that as well. Many had chosen to be converted during their sentencing, rather than serve extremely long prison term. But two had not.

Keilar frowned as he set up the compressor and wheeled the two halves of the appropriate Injection Blow Moulder into position on their caster wheels.

Those two were going to be problems, he just knew it. Both had been sentenced straight to BIR conversion. No plea deal, no appeal; and Keilar didn’t need to read further into their bios to understand why. You only received that punishment for sabotage of a conversion facility, combined with the injury and or death of a plant worker. Someone like himself.

Keilar looked back at his wrist pad to the number, name and mugshot of his next project.

Staring up at him was the angry petite face of Alessandra Vinco, who would soon forever be some small cog in an industrial machine known only by her designation of BIR 1461.

Keilars eyes narrowed as he opened the large rolling doors of the moulding room. He wasn’t supposed to get emotionally invested in this, but it was very personal for him now and he felt a small twinge of anger building as he walked back down the hallway towards the receptacle storage room.

He took a deep breath before rolling back the sliding door, steadying himself, then went inside and walked right to the stall containing BIR 1461.

She was smaller than he expected, skinny too. For a moment Keilar worried about whether she had enough biomass but then realized it would all be alright. While she was short and appeared skinny from her head to her waist; she actually possessed a rather large and plump posterior. Checking her measurements and weight on his wrist pad again Keilar noticed that she did fit parameters for a Mk 4 Florence Flask.

He keyed in the commands for the overhead movement track to raise BIR 1461 into a standing position, setting the tautness of the chain at its max. The short woman came quickly to her feet, and made several loud noises of protest from behind her latex mask as she was hoisted uncomfortably high. The chain pulled her collar high up on her neck, the slack making it wedge into the bottom of her chin. 1461 reached up and tried to pry the collar off, but it’s strong electromagnetic seal was indifferent to her struggles.

Her muffled shouting grew louder in frustration and at her treatment. Keilar scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah. Paybacks a bitch.”

He punched in instructions for transportation to the moulding room. The track slowly began to move, the tautness of the chain making 1461 take stumbling barefoot steps down the hallway while sputtering and making muffled protests. Keilar knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but at least he was putting the difficult ones out of the way first.

Soon the track guided the still struggling Alessandra into the moulding room. The track halted in the middle of the room, leaving leaving the woman on her toes, still trying in vain to extricate herself.  
As he busied himself with the equipment he’d need, Keilar sighed. He ensured his darkened mask was properly set, pre-emptively muted his speakers and activated his noise cancellation. Then he strode to BIR 1461 and began to restrain her.

She fought. Punching and kicking at him, but he could see and she could not.

All the containment masks came with a coded button to trigger their release, something he had willingly done out of courtesy for the last project. But that trick wouldn’t work on this one, he knew. Despite the latex hood being impossible to remove, 1461 sure tried. Occasionally she’d pry at the airholes or at the rigid lip, where it met her neck. But the seal wouldn’t break until Keilar wanted it to.

After enduring a few more kicks and punches Keilar had secured her left foot, then the right in shackles on the floor. Then he used an ordinary pair of handcuffs to bind her wrists high above her head. Only then did he remove her containment mask.

Just like all women who were sentenced, or volunteered to be a BIR, her head was shaved. The black stubble however was a kind of haze over a sharp angular patterned black tattoo that ran around the back of her skull from ear to ear.

Her first act upon regaining her vision was to try to bite him. Even though her teeth could never break through the thick industrial rubber gloves he was wearing, nor the kevlar weave of his coveralls, he still jumped back a little. Then she began shouting at him. He was grateful for his noise cancellation in his respirator mask, he could tell that she was really reading him the riot act.

There was no way that he could use the molecular bonder, she wouldn’t let him. It would also make a huge mess and might ruin the final product.

But that didn’t matter. Unlike the storage container he’d made, a Florence Flask did not require that much finesse. There was only one opening, and the moulder helped make sure it was in the proper position.

Behind his shielded mask Keilar smiled. His earlier prep work and research into the biographies of the BIRs was paying off now. He moved to a supply closet in the room and found the drawer marked “Polymer Catalyst.”

Opening the drawer he found hundreds of small neatly arranged plastic bags all bearing a code. He flipped through them blissfully unaware of the curses, threats and chain rattling behind him. Finally after about a minute of searching he found what he was looking for, along with another item he knew he’d need.

The small bag was marked: Initial Catalyst BIR Mk4 Florence Flask. Inside was a shiny black sphere about the size of a large marble. He set the bag on the desk and walked back to 1461 carrying the other item he’d found; a clean plastic ring gag.

Maneuvering behind Alessandra/Florence Flask to be, Keilar watched for a moment as she struggled to face him, but this was impossible due to her secured feet and wrists. Standing in her blind spot he darted forward and slipped the gag into her mouth before quickly tightening it. Even through his respirator and noise cancellation he thought he heard her high pitched cry of protest.

After making sure that the gag was secured (and dodging an angry headbutt in the process), Keilar returned to his subject with the small shiny ball he’d removed from it’s packaging. He easily stood a foot above Alessandra and after standing directly behind her, tilted her head back nearly vertical with one arm around her throat, while with his other, he dropped the small black sphere into her open drooling mouth. Using the same hand, he quickly pinched her nose shut.

The small ball of catalyst began to slowly melt the moment it came in contact with its recipients wet mouth. It then began to spread, coating her tongue then moving up the inside of her cheeks towards her lips. When Keilar saw it reach her throat and begin it’s progress he removed Alessandra's gag and released his grip on her, stepping away to allow the slow work of the first stage to begin.

BIR 1461 seemed to be trying to spit the substance out, pursing her lips, only to have an ever decreasing spatter of saliva leave her mouth to land on the floor, her chest and chin. Knowing by this point that the smart polymer catalyst he’d introduced had started self replicating and continuing it’s march down Alessandra's throat; Keilar unmuted his microphones and noise cancellation.

The sound of the shackled woman retching and trying to cough up the advancing substance almost made him change his mind; but soon it died off as the material began assisting her bodily functions. Then Alessandra stared at him.

“What did you do?”

She yelled.

Keilar didn’t feel he owed her an explanation. Given how violent she’d been he felt the terror of the unknown was a better fate.

“Tell me what you did asshole!”

The bio-engineer remained leaning back against one of the massive pieces of the mould.

“You bathard!”

Alessandra's eyes opened in shock at the sound of her voice. Keilar smiled to himself, knowing that this meant her entire mouth was being reformed now. Her tongue being drawn down and stuck to the bottom of her mouth; while the polymer finally exited her mouth and coated her lips.

“Wath hapthening?”

She strained at her chains and Keilar almost laughed out loud as he saw her eyes cross as she tried to get a look at her mouth. The polymer had stopped spreading at her lips, coating them shiny black. However, as Keilar watched they began to plump up, increasing in size. Unlike the nanolatex, which the smart polymer resembled, this method didn’t numb the recipient. It had no effect on the nerves in those areas. If anything, it heightened sensations almost like a club drug. Rather than be relaxed however, as she might have been if she knew what was happening; Alessandra seemed to be panicking under the assault of the new sensations.

“Thop ith. I wanth ith thoo thop!”

Her lips were now as thick around as Keilar's thumb. At the other end, Keilar knew it would be coating her insides, and slowly taking over bodily functions; while at the same time converting unnecessary fluids, tissues and other matter within her body to additional smart polymer in order to continue the process. Once it reached a certain quantity it would begin reshaping her insides.

“I haith thoo! Thoo hathh tho thieth..thph thth thnngh.”

Keilar smiled inside his mask as BIR 1461s lips grew larger and changed shape. They were morphing from what had been a cartoonish parody of a human mouth into their more practical application. They were forming a fat circular doughnut like shape that would serve as the seal for the top of the flask. They continued to fatten and expand while Alessandra continued to try to speak, making less and less noise; going from a kind of wet spluttering to finally just piteous moans as the the seal made it’s airtight closure.

It was tempting for Keilar to taunt this saboteur and show her a mirror; but he knew that the best punishment was just to leave her with the curiosity and horror of the unknown. Then he realized that her “lips” which now simply resembled a miniature fat inner tube, were visible to her. She seemed to realize it at the same moment, and a fresh round of inarticulate moaning and half sobs followed. Within another few seconds tears began to flow down her cheeks.

It seemed to Keilar that the seal on the new BIR was complete. It ran from the tip of her small nose, to the base of her chin. It formed a fat shiny rubbery circle, about four inches in diameter and puckered in the center. She was really crying by this point, muffled sobs wracking her body.

Keilar checked his watch in the small lull that followed. It was about five minutes until the next stage of the catalyst triggered. Alessandra seemed to collect herself somewhat, but the change to her mouth had really seemed to have broken her spirit. Maybe it was the taking away of her voice? Or perhaps her lips might have been a favorite feature of hers. Keilar didn’t know and knew he’d never find out.

In preparation for the next step he walked towards his subject. BIR 1461 shrank back in fear as much as she could but it was only a gesture at this stage. She was too well restrained, although to her surprise Keilar loosened her collar chain, then undid her cuffs and shackles. Keilar was pleased to not receive any punches or kicks. Instead Alessandra simply sat down on the floor with her back to him. This suited him just fine and he spent the next few minutes checking the interior of the two halves of the moulding.

Each one was about the size of a king size bed with a half sphere in each. Not perfect half spheres. There were a few odd dimples and creases along with of course a pair of matching half circle cut from the top for the moulding material to be inserted.

As he continued his checks he was waiting for the final part of the first stage catalysts work to start, which should be any moment. It turned out he didn’t have to wait long.

From behind him came a surprised moan, which started to increase in volume. Turning to watch Keilar saw BIR 1461 still seated on the floor, though she was alternatively flapping her hands in panic and feeling her neck, torso and stomach. She had no idea what was occurring; but Keilar knew.

The catalyst was forming a perfectly straight pipe to be the straight up and down neck of the Florence Flask. It had to be a uniform length and width. Usually four inches wide was the standard. As Keilar watched Alessandra's back straightened rigidly, then her head slowly started to roll back, to stare straight up vertically at the ceiling. She continued to make panicked sounds and tried to move her body, but apparently couldn’t even bend at the waist. Her short stature meant that the neck of the flask had likely extended through her body down to her belly button, if not lower.

As she continued to turn in place Keilar withdrew a polymer applicator, a kind of spray device similar to his molecular bonder. Now that her internal conversion was mostly complete he didn’t have to be careful anymore. He turned to prepare to spray his project, but paused. The part of his brain that had been angered by this saboteur had whispered a thought to him.

“Let her watch.”

Yes. A punishment suiting the crime. She would be on the factory floor, surrounded by all that she had sought to stop or destroy. He retreated to the cabinet and found a pair of receptacle lenses. Usually reserved for volunteers who wanted a bit of a show during their immortality of service. But now he’d put them on her, and force her to watch, forever.

Keilar cackled slightly to himself, and wished he hadn’t. He had been heard by his subject who backed away as far as she could from him.

Placatingly he held up the lenses, then realized she couldn’t really see them. Each was coated with an adherent and transformative application that would protect 1461s eyes from full transformation as well as keep them safe from any damage or irritation from the environment. Without much of a struggle he was able to stick both around her eyes, then returned with the applicator.

The contents only reacted with someone containing the stage one catalyst. Also unlike the storage tank he’d completed earlier, flasks were all painted a cobalt blue. Keilar came within a foot of BIR 1461 and began to spray, starting with her feet, then moving gradually up. Everywhere the spray touched she turned a shiny, rubbery blue. She had at first cringed away from the spray, then stopped and simply stood there; her resistance finally gone. Her features and definition all smoothed away under a shiny uniformity, from her toes to her scalp.

The whole process took less than ten minutes, after which the surface seemed to ripple slightly then tighten, forming itself all into one uniform piece and then bonding with the stage one catalyst underneath. In this way Alessandra's skin was replaced and consumed by the polymer which now made up her entire being.

A side effect of the polymer was a drastically increased stiffness. The subjects nimble movements were gone. She now stumbled around, stiff backed and awkward before deciding to just stand still to avoid falling. Keilar did a final inspection of the coating and satisfied that it was complete wheeled the two moulding blocks on casters into position at the center of the room. He then applied a sealer to one of the inside seams of the mould so as to provide an airtight gasket.

While this was going on BIR 1461 stood staring at the ceiling, crossing her arms in front of her chest and making small whimpering noises. Soon she felt Keilar's forceful hand on her shoulders and, resigned, allowed herself to be pushed into position between the two moulds.

The bio-engineer helped her sit down astride bottom crack of the two halfs of the mould, her stomach from her hips up, snug in the hole at the top. Keilar applied more sealant around Alessandra's waist to make a complete closure, and then ratcheted the two halves of the mould closed. This locked within the mould all of her body from the waist down.

Keilar paused to unscrew a small hole for air to escape from front base of the mould. He then returned to the supply drawers for one final piece, the heating pellet.

It was a red tubular pellet about the size of a roll of quarters, which would heat up the lower half of the BIR to allow the Blown Injection Mould to be carried out easiest. Pausing to coat it briefly in a clear viscous lubricant, Keilar walked up next to Alessandra, whose head now rested at about chest height with the bio engineer.

Keilar then reached down and slowly pressed the pellet through his captive subjects bloated engorged lips.

She had not at all been prepared for the sensations this would cause. After her lips had ballooned to their freakish shape Alessandra had been too afraid to touch them, so horrified had she been by their expansion. But now as pellet slid through them an immense feeling of pleasure washed over her brain.

She had never felt anything like it, such an instantaneous and raw bombardment of orgasmic bliss she had never known. She wanted more! She wanted more of that! At the same time the small defeated part of her rational brain screamed in dismay, but it was quickly silenced by another rising roar.

It was a primal and lustful hunger. It wanted anything and everything shoved down her throat.

This all occurred in the span of two seconds when the pellet dropped through, seeming to fall straight down the now completed interior neck. Alessandra felt it land deep within her, around her hips. Then she started to feel a spreading warmth.

This was only a small distraction. As soon as the pellet had passed through Keilar had stood back to watch what he knew would happen. All the pretensions at decency and humanity vanished from the newly formed lust crazed thing before him. Her back straight and head staring straight up at the LED lamps lining the ceiling, she had taken both of her arms and sunk them into her feakishly expanded mouth as deep as she could. She had driven them both in well past the wrist and were pistoning them in and out.

Schlick, squeak, schlick, squeak.

The rubber sounds of her mouth seal and slick shiny skin was punctuated by her orgasmic moans as she fell further and further into a seemingly endless pit of pleasure.

Keilar watched, pleased with the expected results of this conversion stage. There was only one left, but that voice in his head spoke up one more time, and he broke into a wide grin at its suggestion.

For the next ten minutes BIR 1461 was lost to the world, and almost to herself. She didn’t even notice when Keilar had walked up behind her and unclasped her collar. She was only dimly aware of the growing heat at the core of her being. Were she still completely organic she would be perspiring heavily from it, but nearly all her focus was on filling her ravenous maw with anything she could stick within it.

Then she felt one arm, then the other removed from their pleasurable ministrations, and suddenly cuffed behind her back. She tried desperately to free them, to resume this pleasure she had never known, but couldn’t no matter how she struggled. Her body was too rigid from the stiff tube running down it’s length, and her polymer skin ruined her flexibility.

She whined in frustration. It just wasn’t fair.

“Hnnnnnnnnn.”

Then she became really aware of the heat within her. It was all she could feel now below her waist. Was she on fire? She couldn’t look down to confirm it. Then she saw the masked face she’d been shouting at and hating all day enter her field of vision. The tormenter who had taken her pleasure away, she was sure of it.

“Hello Ms. Vinco. I know you’re enjoying yourself but there’s something we need to address. It seems there has been a mistake and you were not granted the appeal you were actually owed. I apologize.”

Alessandra tried to order her thoughts but it was so hard. Appeal? Yes she’d been in a trial before she came here. Did that mean they’d let her go?

“I’ve been informed that you’ll be put in storage until your appeal can be met. You’ll be safe. Unfortunately we can’t allow you to continue with what you were doing, as it might affect your judgement later.”

She couldn’t keep pleasuring herself? The hungry voice from before roared within her mind drowning out the smaller one of reason, which was clinging to the hope of perhaps a normal life.

“Hnnnngggg.”

She struggled against her restraints, moaning. She needed that pleasure again, she’d never felt anything like it in her life. At the same time the heat within her continued to build. She somehow felt that if she didn’t shove something into her mouth, that heat would be too much for her.

“Hnnn! Hnnn! Hnnn!”

She needed to be free!

Keilar's face returned to look down at her upon hearing her muffled protests.

“Unfortunately I can’t understand you. Here. I’ll ask a question. Make one noise for yes. Two for no. Do you understand?”

“Hnnngh!”

“Okay. You can either wait for your appeals date, or you can complete your conversion process. Which do you want to do?”

She paused.

The rational voice within her had grown louder, reminding her of friends, family. Of The Cause she could continue to fight for now that she had seen the inside. She knew their methods now. She could tell people what happened to those who came here. She could-

The man spoke up.

“I should probably tell you what comes next actually.”

He pointed to the moulds she was seated between.

“We will expand your lower half to a larger and rounder size, and you’ll be used in titration and distillation of organic chemicals. You’ll be a valuable piece of equipment, and see use for weeks at a time.”

The hungry part of her brain returned. That pleasure. Forever.

Her rational side shouted back with The Cause and her life away from this place.

The man continued, reaching over out of Alessandra's vision to grab something on the floor.

“But the next immediate step is to fill you up-”

He groaned as he picked up something heavy.

“-with high pressure air, from this.”

At the sight of what he was holding, the hunger in BIR 1461s brain slammed the door on her rational mind.

It was a massive pipe, easily three inches in diameter and over three feet long connected to an equally thick hose.

“HHNNNGGGHHH!”

Keilar smiled in his mask, he had her. Now it was time to set the hook. He hefted the pipe as the hungry eyes of Alessandra fixed on the large tube in his hands.

“This? Are you sure?”

There was a desperate single noise.

“You know there’s no going back.”

“Hnnnngghh!”

“Well, okay then.”

Raising the pipe up Keilar slowly lowered it towards the waiting plump round seal, pausing for just a moment to savor the abandon in the excited and anticipatory moaning of the next Florence Flask. Then he slid it home.

Fireworks exploded in Alessandra's brain. It was heaven, it was the perverted embrace of hell, it was all of her and everything she ever wanted. Deeper and deeper the nozzle entered, until it was resting entirely inside her.

She didn’t hear Keilar turn on the air compressor, but she did feel it. The polymer had made a small spherical void inside her about the size of a basket ball, which the heating pellet had fallen into. That had softened the surrounding material of her thighs, groin and buttocks to a malleable capacity. The heat has also triggered the thermo-memory of the polymer that was now waiting for the force of the compressed air to go out and conform to its surroundings.

First her ass began to bloat, which soon spread the heat to her thighs, then her groin, causing her pussy and clit to swell as well, all of them ballooning outwards, making the empty void larger. These sensations, combined with the still lasting climax from her lips meant that any concept of the passage of time was lost on Alessandra.

To Keilar it was a perfect punishment to fit the crime. He had given her an out. Ok it was a lie, but she still had a choice, had given in and embraced that which she had fought against and lost everything. It all seemed just about perfect to him.

In BIR 1461s lower body, the increasing mass required more polymer material to continue it’s expansion. Since only sufficiently heated mass could be used, all that was left were the structure and flesh of her calves and feet. They slowly began to disappear into the increasing rounded ball of shiny blue rubber. Soon her orgasmic bliss began to be intruded upon by a feeling of tightness and of stretching as her lower form ballooned outward and began to press into the walls of the mould.

Instead of distracting her from her current pleasure however, the swelling feeling, now combined with the tightness of being pressed into the spherical shape of the mould only added to it. She knew this was the right choice, who would ever give this up?

Time seemed to blur in Alessandra's mind as her orgasm seemed to level out. The same pleasure was now stretching on, making her mind go blank to anything other than its continuing bliss.

Anyone who could have seen her brainwaves at this stage would have realized that she had in effect maxed out. At this point she was completely incapable of feeling anything other than what she already was, so bombarded was she with sensations.

While time was meaningless to her, it passed the same as always for Keilar. He stood and walked around the mould, checking for any leaks. Usually at this stage the form needed had taken shape, and all that was left was a little bit of a wait while the heat pellet died off and the new flask normalized. Moving to the front of the mould blocks he checked the air vent and was pleased to see a small circle of dark blue; meaning that the entire casting had been carried out effectively.

After another minute, the automated air compressor slowly wound down then cut out. Keilar checked the regulator, any pressure drop would mean a leak. He was satisfied when the needle stayed at a solid 35 psi without dropping for another minute. That meant the mould was airtight and the pressure test held. BIR 1461 was not going to be any kind of serious pressure vessel, really just a flask for organic liquids to be distilled from or into. A glorified bottle more than anything else.

As he waited for her to normalize in order to remove her from the mould, Keilar marveled, not for the first time, at what changes had taken place before him. What had been a political criminal, a motivated destructive anarchist, was now a large piece of industrial hardware. Albeit one that had a serious oral fixation now, judging from the moans of wanton lust that hadn’t abated in the slightest. On some of his conversions, especially in his younger days, he’d regretted what he’d done to some of the receptacles. One or two had seemed particularly remorseful or even declared their innocence. However he had no such reservations about the dark blue creation before him. She had earned for all of this, had paid in full for her criminal action.

After he was satisfied that the material in the mould had set, Keilar slowly bled off the pressure inside Alessandra. She made no change in behavior at all, continuing to groan in ecstasy. Likely she didn’t feel anything as her compressed interior cavity was equalized with the outside pressure. She did take notice though when Keilar moved beside her torso and began to slowly remove the pipe.

The sensations were just as strong as they’d always been but she began to make whining noises of protest, knowing that her time with the huge pipe was coming to an end.

She needed it still. What was she to do without it?

Keilar finally withdrew its length from her and her lips closed with a clearly audible pop.

She had to have the feeling again. While her core, neck and head were immobile she looked pointedly at the bioengineer pleadingly through her lenses. He spoke to her as he put away the pipe and compressor hose.

“We need to get you out of the mould before you can go back to playing.”

She thought to herself for a moment, the hunger was fading a little, giving her rational mind a chance to return and scold her baser urges. Dear God, she had let herself be changed. Had even asked for it! She then became aware of the strange feeling below her belly. She couldn’t move her legs, or her feet!

She seemed to at the same time feel both lighter, and bigger. She thought about the pipe-

Mmmmm the pipe…

Her mind wandered for a moment, fantasizing about her hole being stretched open again before rationalism again won out.

No, stop that! What had the pipe been doing to her?

She tried to look down at herself but it was impossible, having her head pointed towards the ceiling prevented her any look of her body. Keilar was moving around her undoing ratchets and clasps on the mould. Then using a crowbar he slowly pried one of the two halves off of the new lower form of Alessandra.

The mould was excellent. BIR 1461s lower body had inflated perfectly to completely fill the mould. There were no virtually no imperfections. There were only a few creases of where her visible leg had expanded and then been absorbed into the surface, now only a small series of creases remained of the outline of her foot. Keilar then pulled at the new flasks torso and popped the rest of her out of the other half of the mould. Her slightly flattened base meant that she didn’t rock or roll when she landed on the ground.

Alessandra hadn’t expected the sensations she was receiving. Landing on the floor of the workshop had made her suddenly feel much larger. She had only been aware of the sensations from her torso and mainly her mouth before, but now she became more aware of her lower half.  
She felt very empty. Hollow.

Keilar moved both moulds away and walked around assessing his work. From the waist down, BIR 1461 had ballooned out into the mould to form the almost complete sphere shape of a Mk 4 Florence Flask. Easily four feet in diameter, her torso was right in the middle where it should be. Her legs had almost completely disappeared, being absorbed into her swelling form of the mould. Likewise her butt had vanished, only leaving behind a barely visible seam running from just below her back to about halfway down her globular form. The perfectly rounded, sweeping curves of her hollow flask portion all running around equal distance from where her waist met what had once been her hips. After he moved to the front, he spotted something different and paused.

Moving closer to 1461s lower half his jaw dropped. He’d never seen this happen in all the time he’d done this.

Her genitals still had slight definition. Her labia was easily recognized, but what had caught his attention was her clit. It was almost the size of a golf ball, sitting right atop her nearly vanished labia. It was situated right at the outer edge of her flasks body, directly in the middle of it’s horizontal circumference. Keilar gaped for a moment. What could have caused…

Realization dawned on him.

The vent hole.

That was a one in a million occurrence. Usually it was just a random bit of flesh, the vent hole always left it’s mark, albeit a small one, on the flask. But through a freakish chance, her clit had been the one piece of flesh that had pressed up to it, and therefore allowed it and the flesh near it to retain some of it’s original shape.

Keilar stood back and put his hands on his hips.

While curiosity definitely was urging him to touch it, he knew not to. The flask needed to air cool, and besides, it did seem a little perverted to him. He decided to leave it, it had no bearing on this anyway.

There wasn’t much left to do now for him. He ordered up a suitable drone cart to deliver itself to the moulding room, then brought out a stencil set, lining up the necessary letters and numbers for labeling.

Meanwhile the absence of pleasure from what had at one time been Alessandra's mouth had done two things. First it had made her strain at her cuffs, want to resume shoving as much of her hands and arms as she could into her eager hole. Second, her rational mind had stepped into the fore and was berating her for being so weak. She had given up everything about herself for just a few moments pleasure, which was now gone.

The hunger returned then, reminding her that there would be more.

But when? How long in between would she need to wait? She was some round freak now, all of her identity replaced by blue rubber skin and a rubber hole. All she had was a vision of some industrial ceiling. She couldn’t hear anything, the rubber coating had deadened all sounds to her.

Then she felt something, something being put upon some part of her lower body, she couldn’t tell where, then a funny tickling feeling like someone was lightly blowing upon her.

Keilar stood back to admire his handiwork.

BIR 1461 now stood out in white block letters across the front of the flask. Perfect, he thought. From behind him came the noise of the doors opening and the robotically driven cart whirred in on its electric motor.

He walked over to the newest flask for the factory, and bending at the knees, hoisted her up and put her on the flat bed portion of the cart.

Alessandra saw her vision suddenly tilt as she was grabbed around the torso and hoisted up, getting a sudden view of one wall of the workshop. She felt herself being slowly carried then set upon a hard surface.

Keilar knew that the factory was going through it’s maintenance cycle, and there wouldn’t be a call for a Mk 4 flask for at least a week. So he’d take this new one to the storage room for the completed BIRs not in service.

He punched a room number into his wrist pad, and began walking beside the whirring cart as it slowly drove down the hall carrying it’s swollen load.

About halfway to BIR storage, Keilars wrist communication device beeped. There was an incoming call from the head of the safety department. Keilar accepted the call.

The image of a pale woman with short platinum blonde hair came to life. She was seated at a desk with her hands clasped on the desktop.

“Fabiana, how can I help you?”

The woman nodded while scanning a datapad built into the desk.

“Good afternoon Keilar. Would you come by my office when you get a chance? I have some new protocols I would like to run by you and a few other things that might need your attention.”

Keilar sighed.

“I’ve got a lot of unprocessed BIRs that need to be converted. I’m the only one here qualified and we need to have these done before the end of the week. If I don’t, we’ll get hit with a fine from the Department of Corrections.”

Fabiana nodded not looking up from the datapad.

“Yes I understand, but it looks like you’ve completed two already with seven remaining. You should be able to get another one done today at least. That’s three days for three conversions a day. You’ll have a whole day to spare. In which case, I’ll see you for about thirty minutes at some point today. Bye.”

The image winked out as she touched something on her desktop.

Keilar sighed.

“Can never pull one over on her.”

He decided to see her at the end of the day, after he finished one more conversion. He glanced at his watch. It was another four hours until quitting time, he should have enough time to pay Fabiana Cortez a visit.

The cart rounded a corner and stopped at a pair of massive doors. Punching in his employee code on the nearby wall keypad, the doors slowly rolled open, allowing Keilar to manually guide the cart inside. The room was about the size of a school basketball gym, and was about half full of flasks and containers of varying shapes and sizes. All had been organized according their type and function. There appeared to not be any Mk4 Flasks in their designated places. Likely they were still in use as the factory wound down from production.

Moving to the empty spot in the storage room Keilar could hear the kind of chorus of muffled moans from the other BIRs in the room. Now one more voice would add to it. Upon stopping with the cart at the empty area of floorspace under the large Mk 4 sign, Keilar once again lifted BIR 1461 and set her down.

Alessandra hadn’t gotten much of a look at the room, but she had seen enough. A room containing several women like herself. All twisted or bloated to unnatural obscene shapes. An anger returned in her and she made her displeasure with her tormentor known the only way she could, by tugging against her cuffs and making angry muffled moans.

Keilar noticed, it sounded like she hadn’t quite been so mentally subdued as he had thought. While there was no way for her to move on her own, since she no longer possessed the strength or flexibility, it still wouldn’t do for her to make trouble. Perhaps a way of distracting her.

He stood behind her, leaning over her rounded lower body and undid her handcuffs. Whoever needed to use her later could just put on another set. He heard a muffled sound of surprise when the cuffs fell away.

“Mhfff?”

BIR 1461 immediately felt around her lower body, and finally through touch had an image of what she had become. She felt anger again. The injustice of it all was galling! She ran a hand over the smooth round expanse of where her butt had been, and marveled in shock and disgust at how far the curvature went. She then did the same to her front and sides.

Keilar was dismayed. He’d hoped that she would have simply gone back to pleasuring herself. Apparently she required a little encouragement.

Taking hold of one of her questing hands, he began to raise it higher towards her upraised head and waiting mouth.

Inside her head Alessandra knew what would happen, she tried to tug back against her opponent, to pry her hand back and prevent what she knew would indeed be the end of it. She remembered the pleasure, but she also remembered the loss of control. She didn’t want that again.

She used her other hand and seized hold of her arm, and miraculously pulled it from his grasp.

“Oh, we’re going to be like that huh?:

Keilar said. He was met by an angry noise of confrontational agreement.

“Hmmfff.”

“Well okay then. I won’t force you, I’ll just help you remember what you’re missing.”

Instead of seizing her arm this time, Keilar simply reached up and ran a single finger around the lips of her plump rubbery hole. It felt like someone had touched a live wire to her brain.

“MMMNNGGHHH!”

She fought to keep her hands at her sides, only through sheer concentration preventing herself from shoving a clenched fist down her widened throat. Then she began to cry, making a muted sound of frustration and defeat. She knew that she had already lost. It had only been a single touch, and it had required all of her mental strength to not given to that voice that had now returned. It had returned with memories of the best feeling she’d ever had.

“Hnngg. Hnng.”

She slowly raised her arms, fists clenched, high above her head as a last symbol of independence and free will. Then her rational mind surrendered, and embraced the hedonism that really was her only choice.

Keilar watched BIR 1461 piston her fisted forearms in and out of her orifice for ten minutes, making sure he was outside her field of view in case it was all an act. But she never stopped.

Finally satisfied he guided the cart towards the rooms exit, the whole time listening to the squelching squeaking of rubber against rubber. While he could pick out the rhythm of 1461s self indulgence, he also could hear the other BIRs in the room as well. He stopped at the door, and watched them slowly wind close, shutting out the squeaking of shiny immobile shapes within.

Keilar walked up the hallway back to the unprocessed receptacles.

Two down, seven to go.


	4. Mk 7 Filtration Unit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar must deal with a Mk 7 Filtration Unit

Adas world was black.

The hood she was wearing blotted out all light, along with nearly all noise. All she was really aware of was the rubbery smell of the mask, the two holes for her nostrils being her only air supply, and the occasional sound of footsteps or deep thrum of machinery.

Time had passed differently for her since she’d had her head shaved and had her hood put on after her sentencing. She knew it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but it seemed so much longer to her, one minute blending into and hour and then into a day.

She had been to her sentencing hearing and had been passed down a draconian forty years for her four guilty verdicts of Grand Larceny. Her heists of several high security banks had made national headlines. But she wasn’t one to just rot in prison, so she had elected to commute her sentence in exchange for conversion into a Biological Industrial Receptacle.

She’d had her time for reflection, and had resigned herself to her fate in the intervening time since her sentencing. She’d run out of tears by now.

Ada thought she might have heard someone enter the room she was now held in, along with perhaps some muffled voices. She thought there may be a few other girls like her around, but she hadn’t found any. She’d explored as much as she could, but the chain to her collar running up above her had kept the young woman in the same place. The pair of restraints cuffing her arms behind her back also prevented her from feeling around too much, either at her enclosure or her collar.

She was seated uncomfortably on the cold cement floor, the grainy texture rough on her nude form. She was actually rather skinny, a talent she’d used in her heist career. She was able to squeeze into the narrowest gaps and smallest ducts to exploit a vaults weaknesses.

Not that any of that mattered now, she thought.

Suddenly she felt vibrations through the floor that might be footsteps and stood up, her small frame attentive as she tried to listen in for any clue as to a change in her environment. She didn’t dare to hope, if anything maybe it was finally her turn to go to her final fate.

The rattling and tightening of her chain, making her stand up taller told her that she was probably right. Despite her resolve to put on a brave face, she still shook and trembled slightly, not really knowing what awaited her.

While not a secret, the conversion process of women into BIRs was not something taught to citizens, unless you chose to go into the field of biological industry. She’d really only heard rumors, but the common conception was one that it was very pleasurable.

She haltingly stumbled forward, blind to her route as the chain slowly pulled her along. Occasionally she felt a hand grab her shoulder and guide her one way or another, likely around some unseen obstacle. Before long she halted and felt her chain slacken, though not enough for her to sit down. She moved her head from side to side, trying to hear clues to her surroundings.

She heard what sounded like a metallic rattling, like items being placed onto a metal pan or tray, then footsteps. She then felt her left foot being pulled to the side, and she obediently moved it in that direction. She was long past offering resistance, wishing for the whole ordeal to be over already. Next there was the feeling of cold steel around her ankle as a cuff chained her foot in place, soon the same procedure followed with her right foot, spreading her legs awkwardly in a wide stance that began to make her athletic thighs ache.

Then she felt her chain slacken some more, and then someone was was aiding her into a seated position, her legs spread out ahead of her. She welcomed the relief and was the surprised when she felt her skin tight hood slacken and then be removed from her head, along with the tight cuffs from her hands.

The sudden onslaught of light was blinding and Ada turned her head this way and that while blinking and rubbing her eyes to try and adjust. It took her a few minutes, and she was soon able to take in her surroundings.

It was a windowless room, with white sterile painted walls and several metal cabinets along with a workbench, a cart and a few pressurized tanks of some sort. There also appeared to be a few pieces of machinery she didn’t recognize set up near the cart, and some pipes leading into the room from overhead, along with a ventilation system.

What really drew her attention was the figure in the hazmat suit.

The bulky suit left her guessing at the person's gender, until she head an unmistakably male voice.

“You’ve been very cooperative, so I’m not going to restrain you alright?”

The kindness was not what Ada had expected so she simply nodded.

The man turned around and began to organize a few tools on the nearby metal cart.

He then returned with the brass nozzle of some hose attached to the unknown machinery. Ada felt a building sense of both excitement and dread.

“Um, just wait a minute.”

The man shook his head, his face obscured by the mirrored face shield of the hazmat suit.

“Sorry, I have almost ten of you that need processing this week. We need to knock this out, now open your mouth.”

Ada hesitated, then tentatively opened her mouth. The man reached forward and opened her up further, placing the nozzle within. Next she heard a hissing noise, and then felt a cool sensation as something was sprayed over her tongue, teeth, cheeks and back of her throat. Then the same feeling passed over lips. The cooling sensation was accompanied by a numbing feeling.

She tried to ask “What was that?” but all that came out was an unintelligible

“Whuh huh hahh?”

The man seemed to understand however as he answered her inarticulate query.

“It’s a pliant nanolatex that is going to start your conversion. We’re setting you up to be a Mk 7 Filtration unit, so I need to coat two other things while I’m here. Try to relax.”

She found his baritone voice somewhat comforting as she tried to process mentally all of what he said. As such she didn’t object right away, and was absently turning over the details of what a Filtration Unit was supposed to do when a sudden chilling sensation banished the thought.

“Guh”

The man had reached forward and sprayed both of her nipples with the same substance. He then stood up and moved back to the machine and tray, adjusting a few dials and pushing some buttons on the glowing screen.

Ada was feeling very strange.

Whatever was in her mouth, the “Nanolatex” the man had called it; it was running down her throat and into into the core of her being. If she hadn’t resigned herself to this she might have been afraid, but instead she had resolved early to simply enjoy her own demise.

There was something erotic about it all, that was certain. She remembered the rumors and stories told in hushed tones when she was in high school about all the things that were done to you if you became a BIR. She wished some of them were true.

She reached down and felt her small breasts and would have gasped at the sensation, but it seemed that the ability to do so had departed her. She was only able to moan softly.

The stuff he sprayed probably is coating my lungs and throat.

She thought. But she quickly disregarded this curiosity and focused on the increased pleasure and sensitivity of her new shiny and rubbery nipples. Involuntarily she reached down while she fondled her own chest and began to gently massage her surprisingly wet mound.

She closed her eyes, resolving to take this pleasure and make it hers. They couldn’t tell her not to enjoy herself after all. It was like something out of a philosophy article she’d read. The only thing to do sometimes was to take pleasure in the absurdity of it all.

She was pulled out of her pleasure for a moment by the man's voice.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

She tried to meet his gaze through his mask and nodded lustily.

“That’s good, you’re going to have plenty of sensation for a long time to come.”

Good.

She thought, managing a small moan that she hoped got the point across. She watched the man shrug.

“Suit yourself. You’re going to feel it start to change your interior structure a little. It’s going to take about ten minutes or so and then we can move to the next stage, you just enjoy yourself until then.”

“Mnnnnhhnnh.”

Ada hoped her moan put her agreement across, so just to make sure she nodded her head and then closed her eyes, getting back to her task at hand. She knew her body well, and her practiced hands were doing a fast job running her up the figurative mountain to a climax. The strange sensations certainly helped. She was feeling something in her chest now, along with her breasts. They were firming up a little, as though the flesh within them was changing. She felt the same sensation in her stomach and idly wondered what it meant.

But by far the most arousing prospect was the idea of an audience. She’d fantasized about exhibition before, but this was a new level. She opened her eyes again to see if he was staring at her; and when he saw his tinted mask looking in her direction it was just what she needed.

“MMMNNNGGHH! MMNNNGGHHHH!”

She came, her clear juices spilling over her hand as she tried to clench her spread thighs around her wrist shuddering in the pleasure. The spasming of her legs made her metal restraints and her collar chain jangle, a noise she found she liked. She quickly built towards a second orgasm, and that's when pleasure and time blurred together for Ada.

She wasn’t keeping track of time or her climaxes, she had given herself over entirely to pleasure, revelling in it. Soon however, much sooner than she would have liked she felt her hands being pulled away. She actually resisted at first, protesting as best she could in muffled huffs. Looking around she saw the man with a set of restraints as he cuffed her hands behind her back again, making her whine in protest.

“Yeah I know. But the next part is kind of delicate, and we can’t have you messing it up now.”

Ada huffed at his back as he returned to his workbench to retrieve two silver and red items. They almost looked like the caps of baby bottles, but much larger. There looked to be a red rubber nipple, about the size of Adas thumb, surrounded by a silver cap as big around as a tea cup. She thought she had a good idea what these were for, and was surprised to feel almost entirely arousal and excitement instead of fear.

As the man bent down in front of her breast she actually bounced in excitement. He laughed at her behavior.

“I wish everyone learned to enjoy this like you are. Ok hold still.”

He affixed one of the caps to her left breast over her coated nipple. She immediately felt it adhere as though glued. He then did the same with her right breast before returning to his table and walking back, this time with a short section of pipe about four inches long with a flange like seal midway down. The stout bit of pipe was shiny and red like her other two new features.

Her mind was racing now, she wasn’t an idiot after all. No one who could crack a high security safe and be an idiot. She was going to have that go in her mouth for sure, it was the only other part of her that had been coated.

Sure enough he made his way to stand near her head with the two inch wide pipe. Ada tried to lick her lips but found that she couldn’t. She couldn’t move or feel her tongue. She maneuvered her head directly below the pipe, and at first she was afraid that it wouldn’t fit. But then she felt her mouth stretch as the man slowly slid the short bit of pipe home. It was as the pipe slid into her mouth that she realized that her mouth was now just a hole, no tongue or teeth now.

This realization lasted a mere moment when the flange sealed against her lips, and then she felt it unmistakably fuze to her face. It was a seamless piece around her mouth now, erasing her lips and leaving simply a red threaded entrance where they had been.

The man then reached into his hazmat suit pocket and held out a pair of red mirrored lenses, similar to swim goggles.

“Now since you’ve been so cooperative, I’ll give you an option before we seal you up and finish this. Do you want to see or not? Nod if you do.”

The idea of being able to see people look at her in her finished state was too much for Ada. She nodded as vigorously as she could, moaning in what she hoped was an emphatic tone. The man in the hazmat suit nodded and bent down, affixing the lenses over her eyes, turning the whole world around her shades of red. He returned to the brass hose and nozzle he had used before, while Ada looked around the room. She would have preferred to have color vision, but it was better than nothing.

The man returned to her then and began to carefully spray her shaved head with the nanolatex from before. The chilling sensation returned and then the numbness. Soon her hearing again vanished as before when her ears disappeared, coated leaving only vague definitions of their previous placement. Continuing with the rest of her face she soon was simply a head shaped figure, with hardly any identifying traits. She figured something in the nanolatex was taking over her bodily functions, as she realized she hadn’t needed to breathe for the last five minutes or so.

The man slowly and methodically coated her neck, then her chest, covering all except her new additions and slowly worked his way down. He then paused and helped Ada clumsily to her spread feet and continued. When it came time to coat her groin she felt a tingling of pleasure which surprisingly to her, faded to the same numbness all over.

For the first time she felt a pang of fear and regret. Had...had her pussy been sealed up? The same sensation followed along her ass and both cheeks, then her thighs and down her legs. Upon finishing the coating of her feet he unshackled her legs, leaving her to stand stiffly and awkwardly beside him. Then there was a pause, as though the man was expecting something. Ada felt what she could with her bound hands, and was pleased to see that the numbness was dissipating, being replaced by a different sensation. She realized it was the feeling from her new skin. The shiny red seal was now as much a part of her as her face or head.

Then there was a sudden tightness, as though all of the coating were shrinking, growing tighter around her body. As this happened the man undid the shackles on her arms. She felt around her new form, finding that her movements were now stiff. She couldn’t spread her fingers or toes; and her legs refused to close more than a shoulder width. All the while the tightness increased, it seemed almost to be making her take a certain position. At first she tried to fight it, then caved when she realized how futile it was.

She found herself being forced by the tightening latex into a seated position, her legs spread, then gradually the tightening latex made her knees bend, the soles of her feet sliding flat along the floor to make her knees form right angles pointed towards the ceiling. At last the sensation began to dissipate. She found it didn’t go away exactly, it just wasn’t increasing. The tightness was still there. It was especially rigid in her legs. Thankfully she felt that cramps were a thing of the past, since she doubted that her legs would ever move from this current bent form again

She did move what she could, which wasn’t much. She could turn her head about twenty degrees from side to side, could still move her arms fairly well, but her hands now were really only for show. Her torso was likewise rigid. She was continuing to explore this new condition when she noticed that the man was gone.

He must have left when she took a seat she realized. She certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

She had just started to contemplate trying to move from her position when the large metal sliding doors to the workshop opened and the man returned behind the wheel of a powered forklift bearing a flat pallet made out of shiny red material, like her. He deftly dropped the pallet in the center of the room and backed up the forklift.

Next the man walked to her and picked her up, carrying her towards what she now realized was her pallet. There were even indentations for her buttocks, two obvious foot shaped indentations, and what she realized with glee must be some kind of vibrator not far from the indentations for her buttocks. She was puzzled however by the large circular indentation. It was in the direct center of the pallet and was directly between where she presumed her legs would be. Running from the back of the pallet was a large power cord, likely for her satisfaction and entertainment.

The man eased her down and placed her feet and buttocks within the indentations. She let out a muffled cooing of appreciation when the raised mound at her crotch pressed snuggly against both her shiny vulva and clit. She was then distracted by a feeling from her butt and feet. Looking down she was shocked to see that her feet had fused into their indentation, losing definition and vanishing into the shiny surface of the pallet. She tried to raise them or move them at all and found she couldn’t. The same must have occurred with her buttocks. This was definitely her pallet now, it may as well be her.

She pondered the large circular indentation. Was she to straddle something? She glanced at the man in the hazmat suit, hoping for more clues. She got one. He was wheeling over on a robotic cart a large tank of some sort with an attached pump and hose. It was then that a part of her old self came forward. The self that had been a tough, cunning criminal and had been part of a notorious gang of thieves.

The rest of her conversion had been fun, but this was too much, especially if what she thought was about to happen was indeed occurring. She had maintained her lithe physique religiously before all of this; and now she was pretty sure it was about to be ruined.

She began to make muffled protests, despite knowing them to be pointless as the man unrolled a spool of the hose towards her. She tried to move her head away, or to swat his hands away but she was now all but incapable of effective resistance, and soon the hose had been threaded onto the pipe in her mouth.

As she watched him walk back to the large tank her eyes wandered over the writing lingering on a particular word in big block letters on its side; and she knew that her fears were confirmed.

Compound K117 UNFILTERED

The man punched in a few numbers on a console and she heard the pump spring to life as the hose began to fill up in a liquid she knew was coming to her. It flowed through what had at one time been her prim mouth, and down her throat. Her insides were now all a living nanolatex, a substance needed to prolong the shelf life of many useful compounds. The fluid settled in what had been her belly where it began to push out, using the reserve nanolatex of her converted internals to facilitate its expansion and growth.

She ran her worried hands over her belly, feeling it slowly push out, turning her flat toned stomach soon into the belly not unlike a woman in her first trimester. She reached up to try to remove the hose, but found that the increased stiffness in her arms had robbed her of the necessary strength. She tried anyway. The feeling of growth and fullness was almost painful, as the felt the tightness of her suit resume as it’s surface was stretched by her growing dimensions.

Onward her belly pushed, gurgling with an unknown fluid. It settled onto her raised thighs and soon was past a woman at full term of her pregnancy. Anger was flooding Ada. It was such an insult. She had worked hard for this body and now she was a bloated freak. She hung her head and rested her hands, resigned to waiting for it all to be over. It soon was. The flow stopped and the man returned to remove the hose from what had been her mouth.

Her round expanse of a belly had filled in the circular divet of the pallet perfectly and sealed itself to it. It was like a shiny red yoga ball rested heavily between her legs, its weight holding her in an upright seated position. She tried to curse at the man.

“Mhhhhh MHHH!”

Through her red tinted lenses she saw him shake, hopefully with rage she thought, not laughter. She couldn’t have known anyway, since her hearing had vanished.

What’s so pleasurable about this? She thought.

She had heard stories about being lost in pleasure as a BIR, not becoming some bloated freak. She was in the middle of listing all those liars she’d encountered in her head that she would kill if she ever had the unlikely chance, when she felt a strange tingling sensation in her chest and belly. The flowing like feeling she’d felt before while she had been pumped up was still there, while at the same time the turgid pressure in her belly seemed to be lessening somewhat. She wondered briefly what fresh form of torture she was about to endure when it dawned on her.

She was a filtration unit. That’s what the man had said. If she were to filter something, it would need to be taken out once it was in her. The thought had just entered her head when she saw the man once again enter her field of vision, this time with two silver metal cylinders with machinery and hoses attached to them.

She then felt a tightness in her chest. She stiffly looked down what little she could but still couldn’t see what was causing the sensation. It soon increased, and she thought she could guess now what it was. Her breasts were filling up.

No, not quite. She thought.

They were filling up, with whatever was in her. But they were filtering as well.

They were growing heavier, and a quick awkward feel with her rigid hands did confirm that they were larger. C cups at least. More than she had ever had before.

Those bastards are going to milk me like some kind of goddamn cow! She thought angrily.

Sure enough the man was drawing towards here with the hoses to one of the tanks. She tried to glare at him but found the tightness of her latex skin made it impossible.

She felt the man lift her left breast and fit a hose over her absurdly thick nipples. She tried swatting at him but he deftly avoided her clumsy swing. He then attached the second tank via the hose to her right nipple.

Ada briefly thought about trying to remove the hoses, but with her hands the way they now were it was impossible.

Her breasts continued to filter fluid and gradually expand. Then the man flicked a switch on both machines.

It felt like her nipples were being sucked through a tube. Also the sensation was far beyond anything she’d yet experienced. Despite her anger, the fresh pleasure made her close her eyes and moan lustily, running her hands and arms over what part of her body she could reach.

The feeling was electrifying,as a result she failed to notice the continued growth of her tits.

However, as she became slightly more acclimated to the pleasure after a few minutes, she became somewhat aware of her increased bust; but she was really more focused on the continued pleasure of the pumping. She wasn’t at all capable of keeping track of how much time was passing, she was just getting lost in the rhythm of her new purpose.

Soon however the pumping did stop, allowing her to surface from the haze of the bliss she’d been under. Her breasts were now huge, almost the size of basketballs. They had perched upon her legs and belly, so that her view of what was in front of her was completely blocked. Also the increased mass had now stretched her to a nearly immobile limit. Her face was almost buried in her cleavage, all she could really do was move her arms and hands along the sides of her new attributes.

She could see the man from earlier unhooking her nipples, which she realized were beyond her reach. Then she saw him leave her field of vision, only to return with the forklift and slowly raise her above the ground before withdrawing her from the room.

She tried to look around but found her mobility was extremely limited now, leaving her staring straight and catching only glimpses of rooms and machinery in the corners of her vision.

Before long she was set back down in a darkened room. On her way back to the ground she thought that she saw a shiny red pallet, along with a girl like herself on either side, but she couldn’t be sure.

The man stepped behind her and she heard him fumbling with something, then a slow rumbling vibration at her crotch began to build. It increased in intensity, easily bringing her up to the edge of an orgasm, and then keeping her there. Gradually she gave in to the pleasure, and any thoughts other than the continuing orgasmic bliss faded slowly from her head.

-

Keilar Tooms stood back watching the latest Mk7 Filtration Unit moan and caress what little of her body that she could reach. He reached into the pocket of his coveralls and removed a stencil he’d made earlier and a can of black spray paint. Using a piece of tape he affixed it to the belly of the filtration unit and gave it a quick two sprays back and forth, leaving BIR 1472 across the shiny red sphere in black block letters.


	5. The Unplanned Prototype

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar takes a break from work to talk to his friend Fabiana, who is more than she seems.

Keilar Tooms sighed. He had an hour left in the work day, and was looking forward to a nice long rest at his house. He’d managed three conversions today, and they had been very successful. For not having done any for several months, he was confident in his ability to see the remaining six through to completion.

What he had been required to do was not easy, physically, mentally or emotionally. Many people entered the field of processing Biological Industrial Receptacles, but very few chose to stay in that field. Keilar was a bit of a rarity. He had progressed up the ladder of the Biological Industry landing his current job as a biological engineer. However he had also kept his skills sharp by undertaking the occasional conversion.

That was coming back to haunt him a bit, he realized. As the only member qualified in the entire plant, he’d been forced to put all his other work on hold. It wasn’t easy work, taking a female and radically manipulating their body into a strange semi human hybrid of rubber and consciousness. It required dexterity, physical and emotional manipulation, and a vast encyclopedic knowledge of the processes used. Most importantly though, was an obsession with attention to detail.

The techniques used had the capability to cause drastic changes not just to the intended subject, but the individual practicing them as well.

The thought made him stop in his tracks and put his palm against his forehead in frustration. He still had to meet with Fabiana Cortez, the head of the safety department. Keilar doubled back to his small office in the management wing, wincing at all the papers that were piling up already because he was dealing with the unprocessed BIRs; then walked to Fabiana's office.

He’d made sure to grab a notepad and a few other papers off his desk; he didn’t really need them but he knew that it looked good to Fabiana. The two of them had actually started at the company around the same time, both working in the bio-engineer field. She had been more business minded, and he’d liked the more practical, hands on side of things. The two had made a great team, but their paths diverged. The reason for it had less to do with personal preference, and more to do with the only major accident at the factory since the two of them had been there.

Upon arriving outside the glass windowed door of the Safety heads office, Keilar rapped his knuckles upon the door.

“Come in!”

Keilar eased the door open and stepped inside.  
Fabiana's office was the first major corner office of the administrative wing. As such she had a nice wide window overlooking the parking lot, and well appointed furniture. She had remained seated behind her large oak desk when Keilar had entered.

“It’s good to see you K.”

She used a nickname that she had come up with.

“How are you doing Fabiana?”

She was in her mid thirties, with a short platinum blonde pixie cut and while seated behind her desk appeared to have a modest figure. But Keilar knew better, he’d been there during the accident and knew why Fabiana Cortez not only was now the head of the safety department; but also why she had remained seated behind her large desk.

She stretched her arms above her head.

“I’m doing as well as I can K. Things have just been real busy, I have to come up with a whole new set of no go areas for when the plant tools back up.”

She gestured to a thick manilla folder in front of her.

“I just finished putting a rough plan together. Would you mind going over it some time this week when you get a chance?”

Keilar walked up to the desk and picked up the folder, then took a seat in one of the wide plush armchairs in the room. As he began flipping through the folder he took a moment to glance at Fabiana. She was twirling her ballpoint pen in her left hand. He’d seen her do this before and knew it was something she really only did when she was nervous.

He went back to looking at the folders contents, an analysis of planned fire escape routes on the new factory floor. Then spoke as calmly as he could.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Fabiana slammed her pen that she’d been twirling down on the desk.

“No! I’m not Keilar! I got some real bad news today.”

Keilar set the folder back on the desk then stood up to draw the blinds to the office and close the door, before leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say it has something to do with that accident five years ago. Am I right?”

Fabiana cradled her face in both her hands, her voice distorted through her fingers.

“Am I really that transparent?”

Keilar chuckled.

“Well kind of. Also I’ve looked over your safety plans before, but you’ve sent them to me in an email. You’ve only called me here to your office when you had something sensitive to discuss.”

Fabiana dropped her hands and glared at Keilar.

“Can’t get anything past you can I? Alright then.”

She sighed.

“I visited the company doctor and the lab techs for my monthly checks. They’ve told me that the conversion has accelerated. They’re working on putting my options together, but it looks like I might not have that long; that long looking like this at least.”

Keilar felt his shoulders slump. He kind of knew that this day was coming. He’d been there during the accident, and the solution he and Fabiana had put together to stop the accidental conversion was a stopgap measure. They both knew that. He’d hoped that it would have given them time for some other breakthrough in the field that would potentially allow a reversal, but it now looked like that was a pipe dream.

“I’m sorry Fabiana. Is there anything I can do?”

She was wiping her eyes on her sleeve before meeting his gaze.

“There is actually. Caliph Industries has been good to me, they paid for my education, helped me pay my mom's medical bills, and took real good care of me after the accident. If I’m really going to end up as just another BIR, I’d rather you help me through it. Also this really gives us an opportunity to maybe try something new.”

Keilar was shocked. Typically if someone was accidentally converted, they would be changed back at the company's expense. However, due to the circumstances surrounding Fabiana's accident, that was not an option. She was going to end up as a BIR, and a unique one too because of the hurried techniques the two of them had used to stall her change.

That said, he had not expected that she would have volunteered for a prototype run. But Keilar had never questioned her decisions. She was one of his best friends, and he needed to be there for her.

“I’ll help you. But, are you sure about this? Even if there’s been an acceleration in the conversion rate, wouldn’t you rather have all that time to yourself?”

She shook her head.

“I’ve thought about it. I want to be the one who decides when and what. I didn’t have a choice the first time. Nearly every other BIR gets a choice. I didn’t.”

That was true. Keilar thought back to that day five years ago. He’d been the top conversion tech and had just gotten his undergraduate degree in Biology, and was looking to get a masters on the company dime in Bio-Organic Manipulation. Fabiana had been an inspector, and the two had been going through the conversion wing when it happened.

An oxygen tank (just an old steel tank, not a BIR thank God) had been left unsecured. A careless worker had knocked it over and the valve had sheared off, causing it to rocket through the wall of the factory floor and into the Conversion hallway. Keilar and Fabiana had been in one of the rooms that the tank punched through, in the process completely atomizing a case full of body altering nanochemicals.

Luckily for Keilar, he’d actually been wearing a containment suit so Fabiana could check the seals on a helmet, coveralls and gloves. Fabiana had not been so fortunate. Despite the quick action by Keilar to escort her out of the room, she had absorbed enough of the small particles through her skin and in the air to allow a conversion to start. However due to the low amount absorbed and without any prep, she hadn’t showed symptoms right away. The two had run to a chemical shower to remove any trace of the material, then changed clothes.

They had both then donned suitable protective gear and returned to the conversion wing to assemble an accident report.

That was when Fabiana had complained of a tightness in her suit. A quick scan using a tool in one of the labs confirmed that Fabiana was contaminated, and with the components that would be used in roughly thirty different BIR conversions.

Due to their conflicting nature, it had meant that there would be no order to Fabiana's change. She’d be lucky to retain even a remotely human appearance, her consciousness might even be altered or worse, erased. She was, quite capable of dying the two of them realized.

Their factory was the only one with the up to date equipment, and Keilar was the most highly trained conversion technician at the time.

Coupled with the knowledge that she had only twelve hours at the most to prevent a runaway nanite conversion the two had acted quickly.

What they had come up with was brand new, something that had never been attempted before, and was actually now studied in several colleges as a case study.

They had engineered a new conversion, something to counteract the rouge nanolatex and polymer catalysts Fabiana had been exposed to. Their conversion would be an intentionally slow one. It would be fed by the loose conversion particles in her system, but would be incredibly energy inefficient. It would actually be spending it’s time rendering and converting the rogue elements in Fabiana’s body first, before then continuing on to her form.

It had required the quick and careful application of two separate conversion methods, along with some very quick math on Keilar and Fabiana’s parts.

The two had for the most part succeeded. Fabiana's body was now a kind of miniature energy producer. From the waist up she had retained her normal appearance, though the conversion had begun to work through her various internal organs to supplement her vitals.

But below her waist she was something else entirely. Her whole lower body was a shiny midnight black. For energy production her rear had been repurposed and grown. Her bottom had swollen to be the size of a small armchair. The twin globes of her cheeks had been repurposed to storage containers and matter manipulators. Her tight rear hole had also been changed, growing along with her rear to a large size, nearly as big around as a saucer and taking on the appearance of an industrial seal.

Through her massive rear hole was pumped the raw material for energy conversion via a large rubber hose. By focusing the conversion on an endless supply of matter, it would keep it from converting the rest of her body. A bio organic mixture rich in fats and proteins was used, since that most closely resembled her body tissue. Her body would take the mass and convert it to a more dense matter for use as a fuel or further refinement into other conversion chemicals. She was a kind of small refinery and chemical plant unto herself. Truly unprecedented and unique.

Of course the finished product from her rear needed to be removed once it was completed. For that Keilar had repurposed a conversion process for a Mk 8 Gel Distributor. Fabiana had at first objected, but then seen that it was really the only way for the whole scheme to work.

Using her new assets the two had pumped in the required organic material that would be needed, and then Keilar had given her the dosing.

There wasn’t a lot of call for Mk 8 Gel Distributors, mainly because regular machinery did their job fairly well, as a result very few people knew of them. But once you saw one you certainly never forgot it.

Despite her earlier reservations, and her more than panicked state from the drastic changes she had experienced, Fabiana had enjoyed it all the same.

She had moaned, cried and towards the end screamed in pleasure, as her clit had slowly bulged and grown into a monstrous phallus. A phallus was really all you could call it, Keilar had thought at the time. The four feet of a long shiny stiff tube rounded to a conical point with a single hole. It’s girth was roughly six inches, and combined with the weight of Fabiana's sizeable posterior, being fed the organic compound, she’d collapsed under their combined weight.

All this sat under the sizeable desk in front of Keilar now.

Fabiana had been understandably ashamed by what had happened, but the ingenuity displayed by the two of them had solidified their careers here at the company. Keilar had tried to make the most of it, and Fabiana certainly had. She had milked the company for all she could get, since she was essentially on borrowed time now and everyone knew it.

So she had her large office, that she didn’t leave. She had her giant desk to hide her form, and she’d gotten any benefit or privilege she wanted in order to keep her from going to court or the press.

Which made her decision to volunteer for even further trials that much more baffling. This all played through Keilar's mind as he stared at his friend and coworker.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to Fabiana. I’m sorry it has to be so soon. What is your timeline looking like?”

Fabiana seemed to consider it, looking down at her desk calendar.

“The techs said that for stability's sake, what with the accelerating conversion, that two weeks would be their recommended limit. I have to put my affairs in order and-ggnnnhah!”

She’d gasped and then bit her lip, a pink flush coming over her face. Keilar thought he knew what was going on.

“I can step out for a second if you-”

Fabiana shook her head violently before gasping out a sentence.

“No. It’s fuuuhhhh-ine. Just need to puuhhhaaas a finished sphere. Gimme a sec.”

This confirmed it in Keilar's head. He looked away at the wall, away from Fabiana who was gripping her desk and breathing heavily. He’d seen it all before after all.

Her large globular ass cheeks had finished the conversion of a batch of organic matter into a nano nodule that was now passing out of Fabiana's phallus. While passing through it would be shaped to the ideal spherical form. Keilar could only guess at the pleasure, but the first time it had happened Fabiana had screamed in ecstasy. Any second now the-

There was a muffled whirring noise as the vacuum hose hidden by her desk and attached to the end of Fabianas phallus kicked on eliciting another gasp from her. The nodule would now be moving along the phallus, being shaped into the desired sphere form before being whisked away through the attached vacuum tube to storage. At the same time more organic material was being pumped into her expansive backside to start the process over again.

All this to keep her from being completely converted and give her some modicum of individual freedom.

“Gyuuuhhh!”

Fabiana lay her head flat on the desk and a moment later the whirring pump cut off. She looked up at Keilar, who was more than a little mortified. She began to compose herself, speaking between deep breaths.

“I think they, have been getting, faster recently.”

Keilar was grateful for something to add.

“That would hold true if the conversion was accelerating. I hate to say it but that just means that the sooner we, uh, complete you; the better it will be.”

Fabiana nodded, the red flush finally leaving her cheeks.

“I figured. I had a few ideas about what to do, and I’d like to run them by you when you have a moment. Want to discuss this at four tomorrow?”

Keilar nodded. He felt a sense of melancholy. Fabiana was his oldest friend here at the plant, the two had been working for the factory together for years.

“I’m sorry Fabi-”

She held up a hand to cut him off.

“I won’t have any of that Keilar. This is all going to be fine! It’s not like I’ll be dying. Plus we’ll still see each other every day; lets just make the most of this ok?”

Keilar forced a smile.

“You got it Fabiana. I’ll put some things together and see you tomorrow.”

She waved as he closed the door to her office, wondering if it was going to be all fine in the end.


	6. Mk 8 Dispenser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fitful night's rest it's back to work for bio-engineer Keilar Tooms

It had been a rough night for Keilar Tooms. He hadn’t slept well, despite going straight home after his meeting with Fabiana. He’d had a little too much to drink, it all seemed so sudden to him. Fabiana was going to really be completely converted into a Biological Industrial Receptacle within the next week or so.

A few cups of coffee in the break room helped place Keilar on an even keel, and he left for the plant director's office. It was a very well insulated glass office with a commanding view of the floor. Director Thomas Bradley saw engineer Tooms approaching the office and opened the door to him.

“Thanks for your work yesterday Mr. Tooms, sorry to put you on the spot like this but it was good of you to seize the initiative and start the conversions when you did.”

Director Bradley hadn’t offered Keilar a seat, and the Director himself remained standing in one of the office corners alongside the long glass window. He had turned his back on Keilar and was staring out at the factory floor. The sparks of welding equipment and grinders from the new construction lit the relatively darkened factory. While the conveyor belts and machinery were idle, those BIRs that had remained on the factory floor during construction were not.

Keilar could only make out the screeching of the grinders and crackling of the welders, and even then only faintly. But he knew that if the factory were completely shut down, there would be the low humming moan of all the BIRs still on the floor. If they still had the capacity for movement, the shiny rubber and grotesquely swollen shapes moved. A few groped themselves where they could reach their distended forms, others simply rocked in place while suspended above the floor.

Keilar realized he had been staring, and not quite paying attention to what Bradley had been saying.

“...highest production rates of last quarter; and with any luck we’ll be best in the district once our renovations and upgrades are complete.”

Director Bradley turned smiling to Keilar, still obviously satisfied with his vision for the plant. He then walked to his desk and punched up a few documents on his desktop. A moment later Keilar's wrist computer buzzed.

“I’ve sent you the foreman's complete requests for the remaining BIRs. We talked it over this morning; in addition we’ve decided that given your work and initiative you’ll have next week off if you finish this and see to the completion of Ms Fabian Cortez.”

Keilar felt a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, he just didn’t want to be rewarded for something he wished didn’t have to be done. But he realized he would need the break and nodded politely.

“Thank you sir. I’ll need to get going if I’m to see this to completion.”

The director smiled as he sat behind his desk.

“Always liked that about you son, straight to business. Very well, don’t let an old man like me hold you up.”

He waved as Keilar backed out of the room and closed the door to the office, making his way back to the alteration wing. Along the way he scanned his wrist computer for the additional requested BIR conversions. He at least had them all planned out now. All that remained were The two additional storage flasks he’d knew he’d need to make before. That would be a Mk2 and Mk3 storage flasks; also he’d need the Mk 12 Condenser with accompanying Mk10 Erlenmeyer and Mk11 Van Hausen.

That would just leave the final prototype that Fabiana was fated to become, and the request from the Director for a Mk 8 dispenser unit.

He’d start with that he decided. He should have realized that one would be added to the factory expansion, but he’d been too busy. So he had three down already and seven to go.

He stopped along the way at the conversion lab he had been using to ensure all the equipment was where he had left it. A Mk8 dispenser wasn’t going to tax his stills too much, but all the same he didn’t want to make it unnecessarily difficult on himself.

After finishing his preparations Keilar arrived back at the familiar storage room for unprocessed BIRs. He wasn’t quite ready for his one remaining tough subject yet, so he selected one of the BIRs who was guilty of a non violent crime.

Out of necessity he landed on BIR 1489, who had been a woman named Elise Carter. She had been sentenced to ten years after running a counterfeiting ring which had gotten national attention.

Keilar looked closer at the screen.

Only ten years? That wasn’t a lot of time to opt in for conversion into piece of industrial equipment.

He frowned then shrugged it off.

Who knew, maybe she was a little bit kinky?

It really didn’t matter to him, she was here and the order for her conversion had gone out, certified by a federal judge.

Keilar stopped at the small pen containing his next project.

BIR 1489, formerly Elise, was short but curvier around the edges than the last few receptacles Keilar had processed. But she needed to be. If she didn’t have the small paunch of a belly she would be the desirable hourglass shape a lot of men flocked to. As she was she could easily pick up any man she wanted if she was on her game.

If she still had her hair maybe, Keilar thought. Like all BIRs she’d been shorn of all body hair at sentencing before having her face encased in the tight nanosealed latex mask. This blocked out all sight and sound but for the loudest noises.

Keilar punched up his move order for his next assignment. Like his previous charges the chain attached to his subjects collar began to ratchet up into the track on the ceiling pulling her to her feet. Then a motorized trolley on the above track began to gradually pull the confused and stumbling receptacle to be towards the alteration room. As she walked her knees were bent in, trying to preserve her modesty still by covering her exposed genitals.

It was futile of course. She tripped several times and Keilar had to actually help her back to her feet, as her hands were bound behind her per regulation in a set of steel cuffs.

The track began pulling her along the passageway, just as it had pulled countless other BIRs to be. As she stumbled along, Keilar became more and more frustrated, continually having to help guide her in the right direction. She was putting up much more of a fight than he had anticipated she would.

He sighed to himself. This might end up being difficult as well.

The motorized track continually clicked along, punctuated by the frustrated moans of Elise.

The pair arrived soon enough at the workroom Keilar had been using. Everything was as he had left it previously. While Elise stood struggling futilely in the center of the room, held in place by the tight chain running from the ceiling to her collar; Keilar busied himself with the rest of the preparations.

After the last couple conversions his old habits were coming back, it was all falling back into place and in far less time that he had required the day before, he had his equipment set up and ready to begin work on Elise.

The work order called for a Mk 8 Dispenser. There were actually a few ways to go about it, and given the resistance shown by his latest subject, Keilar decided that what was known as a “rapid seal” conversion would be best.

Elise still struggled against her restraints making grunting sounds.

Keilar meanwhile busied himself setting up a large five foot by seven foot metal frame, making a rectangle that he then laid out on the ground around the hoops in the floor for restraints.

He then removed a large silver device, ovoid in shape with a flared base bearing a screen of some sort. It was obviously heavy, and along it’s smooth shiny form were various creases and lines.

It was what was referred to as a “Control Unit.”

These devices would facilitate orders in the dispenser BIRs, using the screen and onboard solid state computer.

Keilar gently set it down near one side of the frame, he then assembled four support legs for the frame, and raised it perpendicular to the ground, so it now resembled a large doorway seven feet high and five feet wide.

Keilar then checked the seals on his suit, before walking to a nearby wall and opening a large steel case, withdrawing a shiny green device that looked like a kind of high tech paint roller.

He returned to the frame, adjusted a few dials and settings on the device before stepping to the frame.

Officially it was called a “Polymer Catalyst Field Applicator” but all the workers just called it a Ribbon Roller.

Starting at one side of the frame, Keilar ran the roller across, leaving a thin sheet of lime green ribbon in its place about a foot wide. He repeated this several times until he had completely covered the frame, leaving a single sheet of green Polymer catalyst hanging in space.

He stepped around it warily before once more withdrawing a small marble sized catalyst ball from the assortment in a drawer and walking to the soon to be Mk 8 Dispenser.

She was still struggling, putting up far more of a fight than anyone Keilar had worked with out of this group. Keilar felt justified in his choice of conversion method. The Rapid Seal method was a good way take care of uncooperative conversions, but some subterfuge was required. He’d begin that now.

He reached up and removed Elise's mask.

She blinked at the harsh light as her eyes accustomed themselves while Keilar stepped back and undid her cuffs as well, freeing her hands.

“Let me go!”

She screamed.

“Let me go! You have no right to keep me here! There’s been a mistake!”

Keilar had suspected that there might have been some miscommunication, opting for conversion from a 10 year sentence wasn’t unheard of, but it was far from common.

Elise continued to scream herself hoarse.

Keilar held up his hands placatingly.

“Whoa whoa, calm down there. Just take it easy and we’ll sort this out.”

He had to repeat himself a few times before the girl stopped shouting, sweat was beading on her shaven head and tears of frustration were running down her face. She had been snatching at the collar, trying to pry it off.

Regaining her senses she covered her crotch with one hand and her breasts with the other. Keilar slid over a metal stool for her to sit on as he pulled up her acceptance form on a screen.

“You are Elise Carter correct? Guilty of counterfeiting?”

She nodded her head.

“But I’m not supposed to be here! I was going to have a plea bargain! I had immunity!”

She had a desperate pleading tone to her voice. Keilar briefly wondered if it was true, but it didn’t matter. He had his protocol to follow, and if it was incorrect he was protected by labor laws.

He swiped around several times on his wrist computer before looking up at the trembling woman.

“I’ll need to check this with my supervisor. I’ll need you to come with me alright? Can you call your legal representation who was present on this document?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Yes! Definitely!”

“Okay then. I’m going to let you off the hook here, you won’t be able to leave this factory without our escort. Let's take you somewhere for some coverings first.”

Keilar led her forward so she was directly under the overhead track and three feet in front of the shiny green frame. He stepped behind her so she was between him and the doorway of Polymer Catalyst. He then began fumbling with her collar.

“Okay, almost got it. Look up for me?”

She obeyed, looking up towards the ceiling. Keilar rattled the chain and collar in false frustration.

“Dang, just need a little...take a step forward?”

She obeyed again standing now a foot closer to the stretched green material, but now she was leaning against the chain.

“Ok got it. Open your mouth.”

She unthinkingly obeyed the command.

In one swift motion Keilar subtly dropped the marble sized ball of Polymer Catalyst into her open mouth while at the same time triggering the release on her collar. She didn’t have time to react, she was already slightly off balance and the small shove from behind by Keilar was all that was needed.

She stumbled forward letting out a startled gasp which was then cut off as her face pressed into the sheet of shiny green material. It stretched like a sheet of saran wrap, covering her surprised face and open mouth then the rest of her body as she fell into it. It wrapped around her form as her movement into it slowed then all the material came off the frame at once snapping like a popped balloon and completely encased her.

She felt forward onto her face. All her sensations had vanished instantly. Her lungs were beginning to burn from lack of air as she clawed at the material on her face. While the occurred she felt the cool numbing sensation so many BIRs felt as her insides were coated by the catalyst. Just as she was thinking she would pass out the feeling of suffocation began to dissipate, replaced by one of emptiness. Her need to breath had vanished.

At that moment Keilar had sprung into action, the coating that was now BIR 1489s skin had tightened considerably restricting her movement. Without much trouble Keilar was able to bind her spread eagled on the floor face down.

Had she not been reeling from the shock of betrayal she might have resisted more, but as it was she wasn’t able to do much except make muffled cries as she was pinned face down to the floor.

Keilar stepped back at this moment to watch as the remaining changes asserted themselves. This method was far more rapid, though riskier. Right now the catalyst was converting all of Elise's internal organs, fluid, bone and tissue into it’s own chemical makeup, to be used in the next stage of her construction. It was also respiring for her on a molecular level, removing the need to breath.

Elise could feel the changes progressing. Her mouth was still open, frozen wide in a gasp of shock from being rudely shoved into the shiny encasement. She couldn’t move her face at all, her tongue seemed frozen to the bottom of her mouth. Her facial features had retained a lot of their definition, due to the skin tight seal of the material. She let out an angry moan in frustration, pulling feebly at her restraints.

There was a stiffness that was now seizing hold of her. She felt her strength leaving her. She could still move, just not very quickly. Everything felt slowed to her, like she was swimming in syrup.

The material had coated her whole body in a tight squeezing embrace, all of her features from her toes to her puckered asshole in shiny relief beneath the green slick surface.

Keilar glanced at the nearby digital wall clock and moved to the equipment cabinet, retrieving a large metal braided hose almost an inch in diameter which he then threaded onto a green flanged phallus.

With little ceremony or preparation he walked back to the prone form of Elise and slowly slid it into her open mouth. Like similar devices, when the green material of the flange met Elises similarly green face, the two materials merged, erasing her lips teeth and tongue, leaving only the small pipe and long braided hose running from her mouth.

She shook her head, trying to spit out the offending hose, but found it was impossible. The four feet of braided stainless steel hose sliding along on the floor from her struggles making a rasping sound.

Elise continued to pull against the restraints, then began to feel an all new sensation.

The second stage of her conversion was starting, as her excess tissue began to be reformed. She felt her body from the waist up begin to tighten, as though it were being drawn in, which it was. Her rear on the other hand was slowly starting to expand.

The converted material of her innards which was now simply more polymer catalyst was flowing under the direction of its internal structural programming to her buttocks and her crotch. She could feel both beginning to swell in what to her was an offensive and foreign sensation.

Keilar walked around behind her to gauge the progress. Each of her buttocks was swelling from their previous size of soccer balls up to something freakish. Before long they had stabilized, each cheek being almost two and a half feet in diameter. What was really drawing his attention was her tight hole between the two. It had been coated in the green shiny material and had grown along with the two globes on either side of it. It was now six inches across and had all the appearance of a rubbery sphincter.

In time with her asshole, Elise's vulva had swollen as well, taking on the size of a swollen honeydew melon nestled in her crotch, her clit now the size of a shot glass.

Despite these drastic changes, Elise was only dimly aware of them. Being unable to see and relying on her diminished sense of touch, all she really knew was that she had expanded some; to what degree she didn’t know.

When the swelling had stopped Keilar retrieved the shiny silver Control Unit from the floor and positioned it near Elise's rear. It was a very heavy piece of equipment, easily weighing twenty pounds. He awkwardly manhandled it so the rounded ovular tip was pointed at the newly swollen rear hole of Elise.

Then he slowly pressed it home.

Elise moaned in equal despair and pleasure. She had not been expecting the violation of her hole, but her surprise was soon replaced by a building sense of pleasure. Her pliant tailhole easily accepted the massive form of the Control Unit, but the sensation was unlike anything she had previously experienced.

Elise had experimented with butt plugs before, but found she only could take the smallest ones; being too intimidated by the large size of the others in the sex shops she’d browsed. What she was experiencing now was how she imagined those others might have felt, by a large magnitude.

If she had still had a skeletal structure, or internal organs she could never have accepted it, but as Keilar slid it deeper and deeper in her, the sensation of being stretched and penetrated far thicker and deeper than anything she had previously experienced drove her over the cliff of a quaking trembling orgasm.

Her climax peaked when the base of the Control Unit pressed against her cheeks, causing her huge asshole to tighten and seal around its base, leaving it now a permanent implantation in her body.

She slowly came out of her orgasmic haze, becoming aware of just how big the foreign object in her was, Her stomach had bulged slightly from it’s presence, giving her the appearance of a woman in her first trimester of pregnancy.

She was marveling at the sensations still when she felt her wrist and ankle restraints being released. She didn’t move at first, but then slowly rolled onto her back, shocked to find her enlarged rump held her waist two feet above the ground. She ran her hands over her new form as best she could, her motions being stiff from the tightness of her shiny lime green skin.

While Elise was acquainting herself with her new form, Keilar was searching his wrist computer for where in the factory the new BIR 1489 Mk 8 Dispenser was supposed to go. With a Dispenser, you always wanted to finish their conversion on site, it saved everyone time in the long run. Checking the new blueprints of the expanded wing of the factory he found the work station that BIR 1489 was going to spend the next decade or so.

Reaching down he grabbed the braided hose leading to BIR 1489’s (Elise's) mouth.

He pulled it firmly, hoisting the new creation to her ungainly feet. The wide silver dinner plate sized screen of the Control unit on her backside prevented her from standing in anything narrower than a shoulder width stance. While standing she appeared to be squeezing her ass cheeks and moaning. The sensations of her new form had seemingly dominated her mind already. Keilar pulled on her hose, pulling her forward in a stumbling, waddling gait and then out the door of the room and down the hall of the Conversion Wing.

After a couple feet Elise was surprised to find that walking was easier if she leaned forward, hiking her expansive rear high in the air behind her. She had a newfound flexibility that she hadn’t experienced before. She found that she could bend at the waist much easier, so that her her was almost even with her legs. It was in this bent over position, displaying her silver Control Unit screen that she waddled along behind Keilar, moaning as each step rubbed her swollen sensitive parts together.

Eventually the pair reached an alcove near the construction site. There was a long braided tube similar to the one Keilar was holding that led to BIR 1489s mouth. It ran up to a reel of hose on a winch mounted in a bracket on the ceiling and then back into the depths of the factory. On the wall, someone had already printed using a spray paint stencil “DISPENSER.”

Keilar threaded hoses together and then punched in commands on a nearby control panel. Above hi the winch slowly began to coil up the hose, pulling Elise's head up to gaze towards the ceiling. She wasn’t going anywhere for now, the threaded fitment between the two hoses was far outside her reach.

Keilar left her there and walked away to a nearby storage closet.

Elise didn't wait for him to return, her curious pleasure seeking hands ran over her new curves again, this time reaching down and finding her engorged pussy. Her fingers twirled and spun around her inch thick pleasure button, quickly bringing her to orgasm. Her legs shook in pleasure and she would have cried out if she could. As it was, all that escaped her was a moaning that was drowned out by the nearby sounds of construction.

Soon Keilar returned, with a large silver bar bearing four metallic brackets and a smaller tubular pipe the same diameter as the braided hose. He punched in another order on the wall mounted screen, and the spool of braided tubing relaxed, allowing the weak kneed Elise to sit on her copious rear.

She was still pleasuring herself and moaned in disappointment when Keilar removed her hands and cuffed them to the metal bar in two of the metal brackets. He then hoisted her bar so her hands were above her head and threaded the braided hose perpendicular to the bar through the pipe attachment. Next he grabbed Elise's left foot and easily hoisted it up above her head clamping it in place next next to her left hand.

Elise was shocked. She’d never been this flexible in her whole life. Her calf was now comfortably resting right next to her head.

Keilar repeated the procedure with her right leg, pinning all of her limbs above her head, immobilizing her and displaying her round ass and expanded pussy for all to see. Keilar then stepped to the control panel again and retracted the hose, which slowly hoisted Elise above the ground. Keilar stopped her upward rise when her head was level with his own, she swayed on the spot pendulously, frustrated that she couldn’t play with herself and tugging furtively at her restraints.

Keilar bend down and touched the screen of the Control Unit planted in her ass. The screen glowed to life and the software logo of a crescent moon shone through, followed by a single command prompt.

“Sync?”

Keilar tapped the Y button on the screen and an hourglass logo appeared. He then walked to the wall mounted screen and selected the “Search for BIRs” prompt. Within a moment he’d paired the command unit of “Mk8 Dispenser” to the wall computer. He then renamed the unit “BIR 1489 Mk 8 Dispenser.”

He walked over to Elise and bent back down to see the screen, which now displayed

“Paired.”

He nodded to himself and returned to the wall computer.

He was in the middle of navigating the menus when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around he saw a man in coveralls and a hardhat. The man gestured to the dangling BIR.

“Is that thing ready to go yet? We could use it right now.”

Keilar shook his head before speaking, his voice muffled slightly by the suit.

“Not yet. Check back in an hour though, it should be up and running by then.”

The man waved and walked towards a nearby girder that was being trundled along to the far end of the factory.

Keilar browsed the menus on the screen, finally finding one that said

Prime and Activation.

He selected the menu and pressed the large button marked

PRIME.

Above him he heard a distant pump click on and whir to life.

Elise felt vibrations passing through the hose leading to her mouth. She had about five seconds to ponder what was about to happen when an onrushing gel like substance began to flow into her. It filled a void in her belly left by the conversion process. Her belly began to swell soon making it appear that she had swallowed a soccer ball.

Then she felt a shifting in her core, the control unit had started to open up within her, various panels admitting a series of control components to rest in the gel like substance that was now filling her abdomen.

She had no idea what was happening now, but Keilar did.

The gel was a synthetic raw material for construction. The control unit would assemble components out of this material before encasing it and allowing it to be passed from the dispenser. Any number of components could be created. Nuts, bolts, flanges, seals, gaskets and more. All someone had to do was press the command into the nearby wall unit and the assembly would begin, usually taking only a few minutes.

Elise had started to moan. Her swollen belly was pushing out between her hoisted legs, a round green sphere, almost the size of a yoga ball. Then the process slowed and finally the intake of the gel ceased, leaving her hanging in place like a massive green teardrop.

She felt very heavy, bloated and swollen. At the same time she felt a sense of gratification or satisfaction. She tried to move, causing her to just sway gently back and forth in the alcove.

Then she felt a tickling sensation across her new expansive round belly.

Keilar had withdrawn a stencil and sprayed BIR 1489 across Elise's new round abdomen. She was finished. He strode off from the alcove cueing up his next conversion for the day.

1 hour later

Elise hung in place, rocking gently, wondering what was going to happen next and wishing she could play with her exposed pussy some more. Minutes seemed to pass, time was difficult for her to gauge, she couldn’t hear anything or see anything. She didn’t even have a heartbeat anymore.

Then she felt a shifting and humming from her belly. It felt as though her insides were shifting themselves around. There was also a vibration from the Control Unit that was deep inside her. It’s slow thrumming vibrations were very stimulating and once more she found herself moaning at the sensations.

It almost felt as if a second form was taking shape within her. Then the motions slowed and ceased.

Elise wondered for a moment what had happened when she felt her groin and abdomen clench and spasm, wracking her with an orgasm she had not at all expected. She was just starting to recover when another one took hold of her, then another at regular thirty second intervals.

While the waves of pleasure cascaded over her, she became aware of the new object within her moving down towards her groin. It then began to press against her pussy causing a whole new level of sensation to hit her. Then whatever it was passed through her enlarged folds, rubbing against her swollen clit as it did so, throwing her again through the gates of pleasure.

The construction worker from before caught the slick green sphere. It was perfectly round and about the size of a softball. He watched as the BIR in the alcove spasmed one more time then returned to it’s moaning slow pendulous sway.

The worker walked to a nearby trash can and cracked the sphere on the rim, it broke apart easily revealing inside a thick plastic washer. He inspected it for any defects, nodded when it appeared satisfactory and then walked back to his job site.

Soon a whirring pump above BIR 1489 sent more of the gel like raw material into the waiting dispenser. Then it stopped, leaving her suspended. In the alcove, BIR 1489 waited. Eager for her next dispensary order.


	7. Mk 2 Storage Tank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar's next BIR Conversion isn't what he expected.

Bio-engineer Keilar Tooms sat in the break room, stirring a tepid bowl of soup.

He’d taken an early lunch after he’d done some digging of his own about the last conversion. BIR 1489 was now a bloated Mk8 Dispenser, but according to what he’d managed to find out, it looked like she wasn’t supposed to be.

After filing a query with the Federal Bureau of Prisons, he’d received a prompt reply.

All the paperwork for BIR 1489 had been properly filled out for a conversion. According to the various forms he’d viewed, signed in triplicate she had voluntarily surrendered herself.

But he had thought it still stunk.

So he’d submitted an official inquiry on his behalf. He’d received a call from the Plant Manager not much later, and had told him his suspicions. His suspicions that someone had improperly changed documentation to force a conversion on an unwilling BIR.

It was a serious crime if proven, with one punishment. Conversion.

It was all even more frustrating because Keilar wasn’t even supposed to perform conversions anymore. But he was the only one qualified, so it had fallen to him.

But Keilar doubted that it would make it past the investigation stage, he doubted anyone would be actually brought up on charges. But this way at least, if anything was put forward he’d be in the clear.

He finished his soup lazily before walking back to the Conversion Wing, stopping along the way at his locker to don his protective suit.

He glanced at his wrist computer.

There were only five conversions left to do, and if he could somehow knock out another three today then he could take it easy on Friday, before having to take on the big task of a prototype construction. His friend Fabiana.

Keilar shook his head, shutting away the stinging emotions that came with the thought that his friend as he knew her was soon going to vanish.

He had a job to do, and he’d allow his feelings to run things when he was done.

He opened the door to the containment area for the various BIRs and pulled up the list of those still awaiting conversion.

He settled on a tall ebony skinned girl with an athletic frame and build. According to her short biography, BIR 1475 (Nina Green) had been convicted of 1st degree murder, and had shown no remorse at the trial. Keilar didn’t know all of the details, but was immediately wary.

Ms Green had a muscular build, and all that he could find in the bio was that she was an amateur athlete of some kind.

Keilar felt a little intimidated, and for the first time wondered about using some of the pacification tools in the conversion lab. A known murderer, who’d opted to be converted? It didn’t help that she was a full foot higher than Keilar, and outweighed him by a good sixty pounds, all of it muscle.

Keilar decided to play it safe and withdrew his stun gun from his belt and removed the safety. Then he punched in the move order on his wrist pad and waited on the violent outburst that he expected to come.

It didn’t.

As the chain attached to Nina’s collar began to ratchet into the ceiling she obediently stood up, hands at her side, waiting patiently.

This was even more unsettling to Keilar. He made sure to walk behind Nina as the track in the ceiling guided her out of the room. She walked upright, not stumbling or trying to conceal her nudity.

She was proud.

That would be the word, Keilar thought. She walked proudly, with a confidence that none of the other BIRs had showed on their way to conversion.

The two quickly walked to the conversion room. Once she had stepped inside, and been guided by the overhead track to the center of the workshop, Nina had waited for a moment, then sat down on the floor.

She didn’t struggle or cry out.

The abnormal behavior got to Keilar finally. He knew he’d have to present an authoritative persona here, and he decided that he likewise couldn’t appear timid. So he clipped his stun gun back on his belt and then removed Nina’s mask.

She blinked in the harsh light, the fluorescent bulbs shining on her shorn dark skinned head. She spoke, her voice steady and confident.

“Ah, thank you.”

She blinked and tried to meet his gaze through his tinted mask, her brown eyes staring at him in an almost peaceful fashion.

No. Not peaceful, Keilar thought.

Patient.

He thought he might understand now. She was playing a waiting game, waiting for him to slip up and give her some slack, then she would overpower him. He decided the best thing to do would be to simply follow procedure, and engage her in conversation.

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind me asking, you’re being rather calm about all this. Why?”

Her voice didn’t change.

“That man I killed deserved it. I’m fine paying this price.”

Keilar hadn’t heard that one before. He decided to test her resolve and loosened the overhead chain to give her some space to move around.

“Okay then. That will make things easier. If you would then, please cuff your hands and feet to those shackles on the floor so you are lying down face up and spread eagled.”

She looked around at the cuffs mounted to hoops in the floor then nodded, extending one leg then the other, ratcheting the cuffs firmly into place. Keilar watched. She was extraordinarily flexible, both her legs stayed flat on the floor as she bent at the waist to cuff them in.

She ratcheted the clamps down fully, leaving herself no room to wiggle out.

She paused however before moving on to binding her hands.

“Let me ask you something first sir. Are you fine ruining a perfect body like mine?”

Keilar thought about the question. She was certainly a specimen of perfection. Toned muscle. Pronounced abdominals and biceps, no softness to her waist. Her breasts were the most feminine thing about her really. They were fixed to her pecs and sported some of their toning as well.

It did seem like a bit of a crime to ruin that perfect human form. But…

“I’m not ruining anything. You are. You are paying for your crime, if you didn’t want your body ruined, then you shouldn’t have murdered someone.”

She nodded as though conceding to a logical argument.

“Good point.”

Then she laid down and clicked her right wrist tightly into its restraints, then clumsily attempted to do the same with her left.

Keilar stepped forward, hoping that he appeared more confident and domineering than he felt, and clamped her left wrist tightly in place. Then he checked the other restraints. They were all locked tightly. There was no sign that she was going to attempt to escape.

He still remained cautious, and walked out of her field of vision to wheel up the molecular bonder he’d used before. He didn’t turn his back on the prone form of Nina. He kept his front facing her as he adjusted the nozzle and hose of the molecular bonder. He selected the appropriate settings for a Mk 2 Storage Tank and then wheeled the cart with the Bonder to the side of Nina He made sure however, to stay sufficiently out of reach that she couldn’t get to the equipment if she managed to break loose. Then he uncoiled the spray attachment and hose; then walked to the prone form of the next BIR he was to convert.

She looked up at him.

“I actually have another question before you get started.”

Keilar didn’t know what, but something in him decided to humor her.

He folded his arms.

“Alright, shoot.”

“Can you make sure people won’t recognize me? I don’t want people to know it’s me.”

Keilar nodded, gesturing to his wrist computer.

“You’ll only be referred to by your BIR number. In this case 1475. The only people who have access to those records are authorized conversion specialists like myself, and it’s illegal to disclose it to the public. As for your appearance, I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.”

She nodded satisfied, laying her head back on the floor.

“Alright.”

She said, a grim determination taking hold of her.

“Let's get going.”

Keilar bent down and carefully sprayed her labia and then her asshole with the brass tipped molecular bonder. The material was a blue coating with a glossy sheen to it. It coated her folds easily and her tight rear hole between her athletic cheeks. From above him, Keilar heard her gasp. The sensation was chilling, like ice for a second before a numbness took hold, as the material began it’s slow conversion.

Keilar then moved up to her face and kneeled down near her.

“Open your mouth please.”

She did so, slowly but using the same deliberate confidence as before.

Keilar deftly sprayed her lips then the interior of her mouth the same shiny, cerulean blue as before.

Nina ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth.

“Thith ith thwangthe.”

Keilar noted her slurred speech as a sign that the numbness was already taking hold. He then reached down and uncuffed her collar, preparing himself mentally for her to jump at him.

She didn’t. She simply remained where she was.

Then she spoke.

“My huthbanth hadth ith coming. I hath no regweths.”

Keilar nodded, meeting Nina’s gaze as she turned to look at him.

“Doth ith feelth gooth?”

Keilar nodded.

“Yes. From what I have seen and understood.”

Nina looked back up towards the ceiling.

“Thath gooth. I woulth hath thun ith anywayth.”

Keilar started to walk away when he heard her speak again.

“Thankth ooo foth litheningth. Ithh mmtthh thhhh spppthhhhh”

She was cut off mid sentence as her conversion progressed further. She tried again, but succeeded only in making spluttering sounds. A frustrated look came over her face as her chance to express some final thought was taken from her.

Keilar thought he could guess though.

“You’ve been very cooperative. I’ll make this as easy as I can for you okay?”

She nodded gratefully.

Keilar stepped to the nearby cabinet, pondering this latest conversion. It was one for the books that was for sure. He also decided that when he finished with all the conversions, he’d look up Nina Green and see who she had been. He didn’t often do that.

Keilar returned with a pair of lenses calibrated for a Mk 2 Storage tank.

“I have some lenses here that will preserve some of your vision during the conversion process. Would you like to see afterwards?”

Nina appeared to think about it for a moment. Keilar realized she was probably feeling a lot of the conversion within her, turning her internal organs and skeleton into more nanolatex to be used in the later stages of construction. All those muscles soon to fade away.

She appeared think for a moment then shook her head, making another spluttering sound.

Keilar nodded and returned the lenses to the cabinet before returning with a large shiny blue pipe with a flange on it. At one end was simply a hollow piece of piping, about one and a half inches in diameter. At the other was a pressure regulator that had been wrench tightened and threaded onto the pipe. Keilar checked that the regulator was closed, then stepped to Nina’s side.

He didn’t have to ask her to open her mouth. It was now fixed open, her lips having plumped up slightly in preparation for the upcoming kiss and subsequent merging with the flange.

Keilar slowly slid the pipe into Nina’s mouth. It was easily accepted.

Unlike the Mk1 Tank however, the pipe for the Mk2 was significantly shorter, making it rest just towards the entrance to Nina’s throat. She might have gagged, but the capacity had been lost to her now. The nanopores of the latex material was now breathing for her as well, but since it was occurring on a molecular level, her chest wasn’t rising or falling with breaths.

Soon the flange met Nina’s newly plumped lips and the two merged, erasing any semblance of a human mouth with something more simple and industrial. A pipe now jutted from Nina’s face, ending in a brass regulator and valve.

Keilar knew that the next stage was coating her, and he felt that he didn’t have much to worry about at this point.

Nina had demonstrated herself to be a non threat, and by now most of the strength had left her. He was about to release her cuffs, when he thought better of it and affixed her collar once more around her neck.

Only then did he undo her leg cuffs.

Nina didn’t move.

Keilar kicked himself a little, then remembered that the protocols were there for a reason.

He grabbed the nearby molecular bonder and then methodically began coating Nina’s feet, legs, and thighs. He moved on up her body, eventually covering her abdomen then breasts. He thought he heard a muffled moan when he did so, and paused for a moment.

Nina was shifting around, wriggling on the floor and apparently finally enjoying herself with her eyes closed.

Keilar recuffed her legs and then uncuffed her arms, spraying from her pronounced biceps down to her fingers giving her whole body the same sheen. Only after cuffing her shiny blue arms in place again did her remove her collar and finish the job.

She didn’t look at him as he covered her eyes, she kept her lids closed as the spray covered them forever, erasing them from the world.

Finally Keilar uncuffed her from the floor and helped her awkwardly to her feet. She stood there as he moved around her, making little spot sprays on the areas of her back that he couldn’t cover from the front.

Satisfied that she was completely coated, Keilar then reattached her collar and ordered the track to take her from the room.

He walked behind her.

She didn’t manage as much of a graceful walk this time. She was much more stiff, her legs didn’t close much from their original spread eagle position she’d been in on the floor, making her effect a kind of waddle down the corridor.

Keilar kept the speed of the track low out of courtesy, not rushing Nina along.

Ordinarily he would complete the entire conversion inside the Conversion Wing, but there were some that had to be done in a larger area, and a Mk 2 was certainly one of those.

The walk took a fair amount of time. Nearly ten minutes elapsed before Nina and Keilar arrived in front of the new wing of the factory, in the freshly completed high ceilinged room marked “Raw Material Storage.” The entire room was about the size of a high school gymnasium, but with no hanging light fixtures or exposed structural elements in the ceiling. Instead the white painted walls ran all the way up to banks of fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling.

Keilar took Nina’s chain off of the track and escorted her into the room, locking the chain on a nearby post.

Glancing around he realized that he’d need a few more materials, he also saw that Nina was going to be the first BIR in this new part of the factory; and would likely remain here for years, even decades.

Keilar made sure her chain was secure then left the room, walking quickly to a nearby equipment shed. He removed a cargo net and the prescribed 100 Kilo anchor weight, along with the two regulation Storage Tank Tethers and their attachments. He maneuvered all this on a pallet along with a tank of catalyst accelerant and drove the supplies on a borrowed power dolly back to the Raw Material Storage room.

He opened the large bay doors and moved the pallet inside. Nina was right where he’d left her, she was appearing to explore her new form with her hands, clumsy as they may be. At the moment she appeared to be examining her pipe and regulator.

The first thing Keilar did was to offload everything from the pallet, maneuvering the anchor weight to a position near the front right corner of the large room. The anchor weight was a shiny metallic pyramid shape with a hoop on the top with several plugs and screens along its sides.

Keilar then expertly affixed the two cables and their tethers to the anchor, being sure to loop them through the hoop at the top. At the end of each tether was a shiny rubber sphere the size of a softball. He then plugged the reverse ends of the two tethers to the anchor, using the designated ports and locking them securely in place.

He carefully coiled the metal cables for both of the tethers and set them down near the base of the anchor.

Next, Keilar wheeled the large steel tank of catalyst accelerant next to the anchor.

Finally he returned to Nina, and slowly escorted her to stand near the large silver anchor.

She stood awkwardly, her former impressive physique was now only skin deep, it’s tone and definition merely a by product of her encasement.

And even that would soon only be a memory, Keilar thought.

He reached over to the tank and screwed the flexible hose leading from its intake into the regulator jutting from Nina’s face. After opening the regulator all the way, and ensuring the valve behind it was open, Keilar opened the twist valve on top of the tank of catalyst accelerant.

There was a hiss of rushing air, and nina began shaking her arms in surprise. The sensation of the gaseous accelerant rushing into her was an entirely new and undeniably erotic sensation. There was a rushing in her throat and within moments a feeling of tightness in her belly.

Her hands moved to her defined abdominal muscles, feeling them slowly begin to lose definition as her belly gradually grew from that of a trim example of athleticism, to a softening roundness. Within a minute the taut muscles had vanished, replaced by a globe the size of a beach ball.

BIR 1475 rubbed her round belly in curiosity, feeling the gas beginning to fill her up.

Abruptly Keilar closed the twist valve on the accelerant and then closed the regulator on Nina.

She appeared to stare around puzzled for a moment, then with a muffled cry her hands flew back to her belly. The expanding sensation had resumed, and with it a slow squeaking sound, like two balloons being rubbed together.

Keilar watched as BIR 1475, which once had been an athletic woman named Nina, tried to reconcile and understand the changes that were erasing years of hard work and perseverance on her part. She was probably trying to figure out what was going to happen, Keilar thought.

The chances of Nina know what was occurring outside of the sensations of an increasing tightness and inflation were slim to none. But Keilar knew.

The bioengineer had actually been part of the consulting team for this particular accelerant, and its licensing by several large firms had made him a pretty penny. Unlike other gaseous storage tanks, using this accelerant (its official name was Compound 48 Baker) allowed the creation of expansive inert gas using the leftover nanolatex inside the BIR.

Right now BIR 1475s excess nanolatex was breaking down into a gaseous form, increasing in pressure while it’s internal structure memory used other excess material to shape the expanding form of the storage tank.

It was gradually allowing the pressure to build, by not expanding at the same rate as the gas was created. It would stop it’s growth and gas production when a predetermined size and psi were reached by the BIR.

The cerulean blue female form in front of Keilar was growing rounder by the second. Her worried hands running over the expanse of her growing spherical belly, making the same squeaking sound as before. Her swollen gut was now three feet around and ran from her groin to just below her perky breasts. Any pressure from her hands made it indent slightly as she probed her ever growing form.

Keilar then heard a kind of moaning different from the pleasurable one he’d heard before. This one had a tinge of worry within it. He didn’t want her doing anything rash, or running off before her final conversion stage had run it’s course, so he gently reached out and guided her to a sitting position on the nearby pallet.

Her hands had started to shake, but she allowed herself to be seated.

Keilar thought he knew what was going on.

Nina had put up a strong front, but now that the true reality of her fate was upon her, she was much more conflicted. Deciding that he really need to pacify and calm her he walked over to the anchor and grabbed the larger of the two tethers and it’s shiny spherical attachment.

Keilar had just started to turn back when he saw the Ninas growth slow then stop. He picked up his pace and was soon kneeling in front of her. He knew what this meant, that the final expansion was about to start. Reaching under her squeaking tight belly he found her vulva. While its familiar feminine folds had been coated with the nanolatex appeared no different aside from color, Keilar knew that they were actually extremely pliable.

Keilar then held up the shiny blue sphere attached to the tether in one gloved hand and slowly shoved it against Nina’s feminine gate.

A high pitched moan came from the BIR. She reached down as if to stop him, but she wasn’t fast enough. The orb had pressed deep against her, and then bonded itself to her crotch, erasing labia and clitoris from visible existence. Keilar walked back to the anchor satisfied that the tether would now hold Nina in place once the full conversion ran it’s course.

From behind him he heard a muffled yelp followed by a noise that sounded similar to a yoga ball dropping onto a concrete floor. Looking back Kelar saw that Nina had tried to reach her crotch, losing her balance in the process and falling onto her new sphere of a gut. She was able to keep from rolling to one side due to her wide stance. Keilar could hear her pleading muffled cries and returned, standing her up and helping her stand directly next to the anchor.

He then gently, yet firmly pressed his hand against her back, forcing her into a forward leaning position, the tip of her swollen belly brushing the concrete floor.

Any minute now the final inflation would begin. Keilar knew he had to connect the final tether before then. Moving quickly he grabbed the other blue sphere and cable, and pressed it home against BIR 1475s butthole. Like her other entrance, the nanolatex coating now rendered its subject much more pliant. Accompanying another cry of protest, Keilar slid it half way into Ninas channel, at which point it stuck fast sealing itself tight against her body and becoming one with her.

It’s appearence also coincided with the resumption of BIR 1475s expansion.

She made another muffled cry and began pressing against her belly, as though trying to slow or stop it’s growth.

It was futile of course. Keilar knew that at this stage it was mainly only a matter of time, but he did feel a bit of an obligation to at least make it a little easier on BIR 1475, who had been very cooperative.

Reaching down to the large silver pyramid that would anchor her to the earth for the foreseeable future, he flipped two switches. Immediately the two orbs half buried into Ninas crotch and bottom began a slow rumbling vibration.

“MMMMMNNNNGGGHHH!”

The deep guttural groan from her was one of the loudest Keilar had heard from a BIR. She leaned forward into her expanding belly, its form distending slightly to take her weight as her legs began to spasm and quake.

She continued to swell, moaning loudly, rolling her head in pleasure.

Thus she was unaware when other changes began to manifest themselves.

She was still growing, but all of her interior excess material had been expended, either in growth or gas production. But the reaction needed more material to continue, so it turned to the only remaining sources, her extremities and her upper torso.

Imperceptibly to Nina at first, she began to sink into her growing belly. Her lower back and rear started to lose their definition as the nanolatex in their makeup was fed to the reaction inside her. Then her chest began to sink into her ever rounding form.

She appeared to surface from her pleasure haze for a moment, her limbs starting to drift apart as her entire form began to change from that of an extremely pregnant woman, to that of an upper torso and two legs sticking out of a large sphere that was now almost as wide around as she was tall.

She moved her hands and arms distractedly, feeling for her hips which now were vanishing, her taught perfect ass disappearing into the swelling blue ball leaving only the pleasurable thrumming half globe of her tether attachment.

Her round mass was eating away at her lower body she realized, and she actually finally made an effort at stopping the inevitable. Even with legs now so widely stanced to be nearly useless she still tried to waddle away, to take her from this fate she’d made for herself.

Her progress was embarrassingly slow. She’d once been able to undertake wind sprints and the occasional track meet. Now a hundred yards may as well be the distance to the moon.

She made small smothered huffs of frustration. Her hips were completely enveloped, and far from slowing, the reaction was speeding up. Soon her bulbous new form had consumed her muscular thighs. She had managed only three steps, when her round thrumming crotch tether was pressed into the hard ground between her legs.

“MMMNNGGGHHHHH!”

Her suppressed scream of pleasure as her most sensitive spot was pressed against the vibrations made her lose all thoughts of escape for the moment. She bent her legs what little she could so the mass of her would press her vibrating sensitive bits together. The pleasure built and built before finally an orgasm more powerful than any kind of athletic euphoria she’d known exploded in her rubbery sex addled mind.

Her legs and feet spasmed in pleasure, until even her calfs were absorbed into her growing mass. Her ankles and feet were all that remained, kicking and shaking in bliss, tucking to two dimples of her round form.

With this final loss of mobility, her round form slowly rolled back. The heavier mass of her chest, and upper body made her start to roll towards Keilar, who caught her shoulders gently.

As her crotch rolled off of the floor she started once more to surface from her haze.

She felt huge, and at the same time, very insubstantial. Giant, yet light as a feather.

She was certainly larger. Almost ten feet wide and nearly completely spherical except for the comparatively small protuberances that were her upper body, half globe tethers and dimples where her feet impotently wiggled.

Keilar noticed it too, he easily lifted her up with one arm, the lighter than air gas mixture within her had pushed her to the point of near neutral buoyancy. She clutched his arm in fear as he walked, holding her huge form inverted above his head.

Nearing the wall he leaned down and grabbed a hose that led to a nearby manifold. This would feed BIR 1475s intert gas to many different stations all over the factory. Once she was depleted, she’d be refilled from truck containers that would enter through the large loading doors to the rear of the room.

Keilar screwed the hose onto the regulator sticking from where Ninas mouth had been, then reaching up, pried first one of her hands, then the other free from his own.

“MMMHHH!”

A muffled cry of protest left the blue swollen globe as it rose up, slowly at first then picking up speed. Keilar watched the lines for her tethers and the hose hooked to her regulator unspool, then stop with a lurch.

Both of the cables leading to the small spheres pressed into her sensitive bits had been pulled taught.

From above him Keilar heard a faint squeak of pleasure.

He couldn’t see what was happening to her upper body, it was too high above him, but he could guess.

There were a few more muffled yelps of panic. That would be her upper body now being fed into the reaction. Her overall growth couldn’t really be observed now. She was too big and the remaining mass too small. But over the next minute or so, her chest would sink in slowly followed by her arms up the elbows and then her neck, forcing her head obediently skyward, the new container for whatever inert gas needed storage by the factory.

In time there would be more like her in this room, all tightly packed and squeaking from the contact with others, a strange bundle of 15 foot wide spheres, all moaning and flapping their useless appendages.

That reminded Keilar of something.

Reaching down he checked the screen on the silver anchor from which her taut tethers now extended. It read that her interior pressure was stable at a 300 psi. He nodded satisfied and gave each of the tethers a tug. BIR 1475 bobbed slightly and squeaked above him.

Only one thing left to do now, he thought. Then corrected himself. Two things.

He left the room and returned a short time later driving a motorized hydraladder and carrying a can of white spray paint.

He positioned himself beneath the expanse of what had at one time been a perfect specimen of the human form. Now really just a glorified weather balloon. He raised the lift until he was right under her round body and quickly, using a cardboard stencil, spray painted BIR 1475 in white block letters, large enough to be visible from the floor of the Raw Materials Storage room.

The light touch of the aerosol paint elicited a few faint shakes and a small muffled noise that might have been a ticklish giggle from 1475.

Keilar lowered the platform then drove it out of the room. He returned moments later, gathered all that he had brought in onto the motorized pallet cart, then made one last trip to the silver pyramid that kept the large round ball suspended neatly above it.

Reaching down to a black dial, he turned it counterclockwise from 1 to 6. Above him came a series of pleasure filled grunts, in time to the pulsing pattern of the BIRs tether attachments.

Satisfied with an easy job done well, Keilar drove the cart out of the room.

“Halfway there.”

He said to himself, closing the large sliding door on BIR 1475.

She couldn’t care less.

BIR 1475 hung suspended above the ground in darkness, devoid of all sensation except pleasure and a tightness that encapsulated all she now was.

The vibrations which before had been enough to bring her to orgasm, now vibrated all through her. Not just in the erogenous zone that had once been her crotch, but moving through every inch of her now thinly stretched form. The vibrations grew then subsided, grew then subsided.

At each peak she let out a barely audible grunt of pleasure.

The process did somewhat remind her of doing sets of lifts, she thought to herself on one of the down turns. This thought though was soon banished, and the pleasure swelled within her again.

She came, flapping her useless arms causing her whole roundness to quiver slightly as she eagerly awaited the next rise up towards a climax, and then the next.

Soon all thoughts and memories of lifting weights, doing crunches and wind sprints began to fade, and all that remained was the next orgasm, then the next, and the next...


	8. Mk 17 Erlenmeyer Flask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This latest conversion for Keilar is easy, but awkward for him.

Bio-engineer Keilar had a long walk back to the Conversion Wing from where he had delivered his latest Biological Industrial Receptacle. He had left the once perfectly muscular toned body of Nina Green suspended in the air and swollen beyond recognition.

While he calmly strode back to the Conversion Wing of the factory, Keilar's curiosity got the better of him and pulled up a search on the newest Mk 2 Storage Tank. She had actually been a bit of a popular fitness nut. She’d enjoyed a mild celebrity with workout instruction and dieting articles before marrying her husband, another bodybuilder. Keilar kept reading, scrolling through rumors of domestic arguments and abuse, and then the murder.

Nathan Green had been strangled by Nina, who had confessed and pled guilty to the crime. There hadn’t been much of a trial. A few articles from paparazzi sites showed that there were plenty of interested parties trying to find out what had happened to her. They would likely never find out.

The identity of BIRs was confidential, and any leak of private information was punishable by a jail sentence.

Keilar closed his search window, the smiling picture of Nina Green winking out of existence as he once more opened the wide doors to his workshop.

Keilar pulled up his work list on his personal computer.

Five different BIR numbers gleamed in green as being processed and converted, while another four remained yellow with the words Awaiting Conversion next to their BIR numbers.

Keilar compared his remaining stock with the work orders put out by the factory construction foreman. He settled on the requested Mk 17 Erlenmeyer flask, a bottom heavy mixing container. The required dimensions paired well with the BIR designated BIR 1479. Keilar briefly read the biography.

Otomei Lang, a student convicted of numerous counts of property damage, theft and vandalism. She’d pled guilty and immediately requested conversion as part of her plea deal. Keilar smiled. He’d needed a break and it was good that he was getting one. The conversions where the subject voluntarily selected the treatment were almost always easier to process.

Keilar had been feeling the strain of the last few projects, and he knew he’d be glad when this was all over.

He checked his nearby equipment, ensuring that he would have the requisite material and machinery in place for the Erlenmeyer conversion.

He checked the charge on his molecular bonder, nodding in satisfaction at the status reading before withdrawing the various accessories he’d need for the flask. Then he moved sideways to the wall cabinet and withdrew a large silver conical shaped device. It was about the size of a one gallon jug, and a shiny metallic color. Finally, he pulled out a long sliding drawer and removed from it a sealed solid black plastic bag.

Setting all of his equipment and material neatly on his familiar rolling cart he walked toward the storage room for the unprocessed Biological Industrial Receptacles. As the large metal door swung open on its motorized hinges he saw the remaining women in their stalls.

He cued up his next project.

BIR 1479. Or as she had been known before she’d gotten onto the wrong side of the law, Otomei Lang. She was the youngest of the group by a long shot, only recently turned nineteen.

As Keilar punched the move order into his wrist computer, making Otomeis collar ratchet up to the track in the ceiling, then start moving her towards his workshop. As Otomei took unsure faltering steps under the direction of the motorized track, Keilar read her short biography.

She had a long criminal record. Nothing that was in itself a terrible offence, a slew of misdemeanors; until her most recent crime. She’d apparently gone on a minor rampage. No one had been killed or injured, but according to his available information she’d inflicted over ten million dollars in property damage when she stole a school bus and proceeded to use it to wreak havoc in a shopping mall.

She had represented herself during the trial and immediately volunteered to be converted in lieu of any sentencing by the judge.

Which was absolutely fine with Keilar. This had all the indications of an easy conversion and he hoped that would be the case.

Keilar looked up idly at Otomei Lang. She walking uncertainly towards Keilar's workshop, led along slowly by the motorized track above her, the occasional stumble marking her progress but no signs or resistance or reluctance.

She was small, looking to be only slightly taller than five feet with a somewhat curvy build. The same black hood enshrouded her shaved head as all the other BIRs awaiting conversion, which contrasted with her pale skin. The mask blocked out all sight and nearly all sound, serving the dual purpose of preventing any outcries from her while also allowing small breathing holes for her nose. Behind her back, both of her hands were cuffed, in order to prevent her from tampering with nearby equipment or injuring herself.

Otomei, now BIR 1479 was slowly guided through the open door to Keilars workshop, then brought to a halt in the center of his workspace.

Keilar made sure his containment suit was properly sealed, and that his masks opaque setting was in place so his face would be obscured, then removed the hood from his latest project.

Otomei blinked awkwardly in the harsh florescent lighting before her bleary eyes finally focused on Keilar.

Keilar was shocked to actually see her smile.

“Hi. I’m Otomei, but my friends call me May.”

She looked at the nearby equipment laid out on the table and the surroundings and gestured by shrugging towards the molecular bonder.

“I guess you’re the one who’s going to take care of me? Convert me?”

Keilar finally found his voice.

“Yes. That’s my job.”

The two stared at eachother for an awkward moment until Keilar spoke back up.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you seem to be taking this rather well.”

Otomei, now BIR 1479 shrugged again in nonchalance.

“Not like I can do anything about it now. Also I heard that it’s real sexy and fun!”

Keilar nodded.

The girl had no clue what she was doing, or she was certifiably crazy. He pulled up his wrist computer again and began scrolling through her bio again. He was rereading her plea bargain when she spoke up.

“I mean, I could have volunteered for this, but why should I? Why volunteer for something I can have anyway if I break the law?”

Keilar stopped. Yes, she was nuts. The idea of going on a vehicular rampage just to have some kind of kink scratched was nonsensical. But, if it meant she was going to be a willing conversion, who was he to protest? Keilar decided to roll with it.

He picked up the spray nozzle for his molecular bonder and switched it on before advancing to the cuffed girl. He stopped two feet from her, looking down at her smiling and expectant face.

“Ok then, let's get started. I’m going to need you to open your mouth for me.”

BIR 1479s eyes lit up and she opened her mouth in a manner that she likely intended to be seductive, extending her tongue out slowly.

“Put your tongue back in please.”

She did so, somewhat petulantly and with a disappointed look on her face. Keilar ignored this and checked the digital readout on his bonder gun. Once he was sure the correct parameters for a Mk17 Erlenmeyer were entered he slowly and methodically sprayed the waiting lips and inside mouth of May.

She patiently held still, and once Keilar had finished she worked her mouth slightly, running her tongue over her new shiny blue lips. Then she moaned.

“Mmmnnhhh. Thethxy!”

The numbing of the nanolatex particles from the molecular bonder were already rearranging the interior of her mouth, slurring her speech. May appeared to revel in it, continuing to make sultry noises.

Keilar stepped behind her and undid her cuffs.

“I assume that I can count on you being well behaved for the rest of this?”

May nodded.

“Yeth. Thell me wath thoo do.”

Keilar nodded approvingly and in relief. He reached over the to the table and ripped open the black plastic bag, withdrawing a set of what appeared to be large blue latex stockings.

“I’m going to need you to shimmy into these and just hold them up please.”

May actually giggled.

“Oh new clotheths? Thoo thouldn’t haff!”

She eagerly snatched them from Keilar's hand and began to slide first one leg then the other into the shiny blue material of the stockings. They appeared to be somewhat too large for her. Mays legs slid in easily and the waistband was so loose around her nude hips that she had to hold them up with one hand. Her other hand found a silver metallic disc with a metal iris upon it and held it above her buttocks.

“I thinkth thoo mighth neeth thoo exthangth thethe tharlinth, they’re thoo bigth.”

Keilar grinned and chuckled.

“Well let's try some alterations first, the color looks very good on you.”

Keilar knelt down and slid the legs of the shiny stockings up to just above Mays ankles, before moving to stand behind her and take hold of the small irised silver disc.

What May was wearing would eventually become a reinforcing layer of nanolatex polymer. Mk17 Erlenmeyer flasks needed extra reinforcement in their base to help improve their rigidity, and what appeared to be a thick pair of latex stockings, were actually a second layer that would help achieve traits that weren’t possible with just a single application of a molecular bonder.

May was shifting awkwardly, while Keilar clipped the nozzle of the molecular bonder to the irised silver disc on the back of her stockings. Moving to his molecular bonders box like machinery unit, Keilar threw open a switch with no warning or pretense.

The stockings clenched and tightened on Mays lower body, rapidly shrinking and closing around her legs, crotch and rear. The subject let out a surprised yelp followed by a moan.

“NNnnngghh!”

She squirmed, running her hands over her newly slick blue thighs, stiffly moving one leg and then the other. She was completely enraptured in herself and her form, grabbing handfuls of her round posterior, eliciting a rubbery squeaking sound. She appeared to have completely forgotten Keilar.

While she continued her ministrations Keilar could tell from the rigidity of her legs along with the reduction of her vocal complexity, that the nanolatex was now beginning to coat her insides and convert her more than what one could outwardly discern.

There were a few moments where it had appeared that May had tried to speak or articulate some kind of vocal outcry of pleasure, but was unable to utter more than a splutter or throaty moan.

The micropores contained in the material that was now replacing her flesh and bone were now respiring for her, and within a few minutes Keilar knew he could move on to the next steps.

For her part, May appeared oblivious to her surroundings. She was revelling in the changes she was undergoing. A few minutes later though, the low humming emanating from the molecular bonder made her look up, a curious expression on her face.

Keilar knew what was about to occur. The stockings had now replaced her skin, they were as much a part of her body as her toes or face. Now the second stage of her conversion would take place, which would be the manifestation of the various features she would need as a Mk 17 flask.

As Keilar watched, small spasms and shakes moved over Mays legs and thighs, the material underneath moving around and undulating slightly in preparation for it’s next stage of conversion.

Suddenly May gasped and clenched her knees together, moving both her hands to her crotch and buttocks. Slowly she eased down onto her knees as her hips bucked and twitched, successive moans and whines emanating from her lips.

Keilar knew that this meant the next phase had begun. The nanolatex was moving inward, through her coated anus, intruding deeper into her body, where it would form a large cavity. This would be the space around which May's new form would construct itself.

May was entirely preoccupied with the pleasure of the moment, and appeared to actually be actively masturbating, rubbing her hand over her shiny blue mound in a frenzy. Distracted as she was she did not appear to notice the changes to her lips.

Her mouth would form the top of the flask, and her lips were starting to plump up in order to adapt to their new duty. The shiny blue coating now more than just surface deep. What had been prim and proper lips were starting to bloat into something more utilitarian. They were rounding out in shape and increasing in thickness to the diameter of a thick sausage. They stopped their expansion once they formed a perfectly round donut running from the base of her chin to just below her nose, in total roughly four inches in diameter.

Mays trembling form slowly began to subside as the nanolatex ran its course. She looked up at Keilar with watery, pleasure hazed eyes. Keilar for his part had retrieved a pair of blue tinted goggle like lenses from a nearby cabinet and approached the BIR on the floor, still enraptured by her recent experience. Ordinarily Keilar would ask whether the BIR wanted to be able to see during their service as a piece of industrial equipment, but figured he knew the answer well enough in this case.

He skillfully affixed the two lenses over May's eyes, lending her world a bluish tint and protecting her vision for the future. He then retrieved his molecular bonder and helped the quaking May to her feet.

Slowly and deliberately Keilar began to spray the shiny blue nanolatex from the bonder over May's feet, pinning her toes all together as the adhering substance tightened and bound before starting to replace whatever it touched. He moved the spray further up, coating over the shiny stocking like material and lending it additional reinforcement.

The spray inched further up sealing over Mays waist and actually erasing the presence of her belly button. Further up it moved, erasing blemishes and soft alabaster skin alike beneath the uniform shiny blue. As it passed over her modest breasts her nipples disappeared, leaving only blue globe like structures affixed to her chest.

Keilar coated her arms next, moving down to her hands. Like her feet, once coated her fingers seemed to stick together, severely limiting her dexterity and leaving her with just two hand shaped paddles where there had once been fingers.

Keilar continued, finally arriving at May’s face. He slowly and methodically sprayed over her shaved head, smoothing over her ears, sealing her nose, and covering her scalp all beneath a shiny blue.

Once finished he walked around her, and waited. Soon enough he could see the material tighten in a uniform pattern, a low squeaking noise accompanied by May’s moans filled the room. That meant he had completely covered her, and no human skin remained bare to the elements.

May was obviously enjoying it, running her hands over her slick face and neck, then she found her newly swollen lips. She began to moan anew, savoring the pleasure and increased sensitivity of the change. She was running her stiff hands over her mouth in a hedonistic rapture. While she was occupied, Keilar bent down to examine her crotch and rear, confirming that they had both been coated and were the pliant rubber they would need to be for what lay ahead.

He stood up and retrieved the large silver conical device. It was technically called a Mk 17 Fluid Agitator, but colloquially everyone in the industry simply called it the “Erlenmeyer Plug.”

It was a shiny silver color, with a flared base that tapered into a narrow band before expanding again into a large bulb. Not that Keilar had much experience with such things, but it certainly resembled a large shiny butt plug. It was also absurdly heavy, requiring him to use his leg muscles to carry it over to the floor near May and set it down with a loud metallic clunk.

May wouldn’t be the first conversion into a Mk 17 that Keilar had done, but she was the first who was so helpful and he wondered briefly if she would make the next step easier. In his previous experience he had to chain and cuff the BIR and lower their lower body onto the Erlenmeyer Plug, the whole time fighting their struggles. But maybe May would do it herself?

Keilar was about to call attention to it when May herself noticed it. Her demeanor changed to one of excitement and giddiness, answering Keilars question. She hopped excitedly from foot to foot and clapped her paddle like hands together, a series of high pitched moans exiting her form.

Using a rudimentary pantomime that might have appeared comical in a different circumstance, Keilar mimed May squatting over the plug. Without any hesitation, she eagerly sprang forward. Keilar helped guide her rear lower towards the plug until it pressed against her swollen hole.

While May might have been shocked by the lack of lubricant, Keilar knew that it was unnecessary. As May slowly pressed her rear down upon the swollen head of the plug she felt the strange sensation of feeling herself stretch far wider than any of her own experimentation had allowed. Also Keilar knew that such an entrance would have been impossible for someone flesh and blood, but was easy for a nanorubber body. Her whole form stretched, sliding open, her hips widening with the added mass intruding up inside of her.

The feeling of being filled as the plug pressed further and further into her made BIR 1479 emit several muffled lusty noises. It was supremely satisfying, her rear gaping more and more, almost a foot in diameter before she was past the widest point of the plug.

Then, with further stretching no longer needed, she felt the plug seat itself snugly within her as she felt it’s wide flared base seat against her blue ass cheeks, and then felt her rear end meet with the concrete floor.

As Keilar watched, May hugged herself, arms crossed across her chest and rolling her head around in pleasure.

The plug was now seated at the base of what would eventually be the large swollen mixing container portion of BIR 1479. Also it’s weight and flared base served the purpose of keeping the vessel stable and stationary. Given its dense presence within her, May wasn’t going anywhere. She was prohibitively bottom heavy now.

Keilar decided that since the most difficult part of her conversion was over, he should really get her in position first before continuing. He knew now that May was incapable of running off anywhere on her own, so he made sure that any tools were out of her reach and then left the room, looking for a means of transportation.

May didn’t even notice that he had left for a few minutes. Once she’d gotten over herself she began exploring her new attribute. She reached to her bottom with both of her hands and tried to get a feel for it’s shape. She could feel it’s rounded and flared base, but other than that couldn’t tell much. She thought that she might feel a kind of slot for a cable of some kind but other than that it was all smooth and metallic. She was sitting on her new plug, her blue latex legs in front of her, knees pointed towards the ceiling and bent at 45 degree angles. It wasn’t uncomfortable, the flat plug base providing a kind of seat for her as well as keeping her torso rigid.

She felt her stomach, and was shocked to feel a rigid bulge from where the plug had stretched her belly slightly. May moved her legs slightly, trying to get more of a feel for her new feature, but was significantly restricted by it’s weight and rigidity.

Next May thought about taking a different position in order to try further exploration. She tried to raise herself up with her arms and legs, but found that she didn’t have the strength that she used to. She was hardly able to move her rear and torso. Something had changed with her arms and legs, they now were seemingly almost vestigial, not possessing the strength she had counted on before.

Somewhat disappointed and frustrated, May decided to satisfy herself by exploring the slick parts of her body she could reach, and soon the squeaking sound of rubber on rubber began to fill the room.

Keilar meanwhile had wandered down the hall in search of a motorized cart, forklift or even a hand truck. He wasn't having much luck, several designated places for them turned up empty. Growing more and more frustrated he left the conversion wing and moved out to the factory floor. He finally located a rusted and well used forklift against the wall and saddled in behind the wheel.

“Mr. Tooms!”

Keilar looked up just as he was about to turn the key in the forklift ignition as he heard his name called out.

A figure in a green jumpsuit waved to him from across the factory floor. They were carrying a propane canister which Keilar recognized as one of those used to power the forklift, and realized that he hadn’t checked to make sure that the current vehicle had enough fuel.

The figure carrying the cannister moved closer, a friendly bouncing movement to their gait. As they got closer Keilar was able to recognize them as Mathile Cordeaux, a recent hire on the factory maintenance staff. Keilar had last seen her cleaning the rafters while the factory was shut down.

She stepped closer and set down the tank.

“That one is out of fuel. I just got a replacement.”  
She checked to ensure the key was out of the ignition and then began to remove the empty tank from the forklift. Keilar turned in his seat.

“Thanks. Do you need it right away? Or can I borrow this for a half hour or so?”

Mathile shook her head.

“Nah you’re fine. I was just doing some routine maintenance on all the lifts and carts today. This one was fine but had an almost empty tank, figured I’d swap it out.”

Keilar had been about to step out of the cab of the forklift and help, but saw that Mathile is easily hefted the empty canister down off the machine and swung its replacement into position. With a few quick turns of an adjustable wrench, the new container was connected.

She banged twice on the rear of the vehicle.

“That should do it Keilar. Just drop it off in the motor pool when you’re done.”

Keilar smiled behind his mask and turned the key, hearing the rumble of the engine turn over. He waved behind him as a thank you gesture and drove off. Mathile energetically waved back.

A few minutes later Keilar drove the forklift through the large doors of his workshops, seeing BIR 1479 right where he had left them. At his entrance with the forklift she cocked her head in a way that seemed to say

Really?

Keilar laughed to himself. This one was certainly unique.

He deftly maneuvered the forklift to just in front of the shiny blue form, then extricated himself from the cab.

He stood over the prone May, and gestured idly to the forklift.

“Ok, We need to take you to your workstation, I’m going to need your help though getting you on the lift. Would you mind?”

A muffled sound left May, and Keilar had to give her credit. For someone without a mouth or eyebrows she was remarkably expressive. The noise had seemed to portray a sense of “well what choice do I have?”

With some strong effort on Keilars behalf and some help from May, he managed to place her on the wooden pallet being held by the forklift prongs. Keilar made sure that May was stable on the platform and then hopped back into the cab and drove his project back toward the western wing of the factory.

May would have felt embarrassed, but the erasure of her facial features by the conversion process had helped to make her a bit more comfortable. It also helped that with the large metallic plug contacting the pallet, every bump the forklift went over seemed to jostle her core. She found the ride was making her further and further excited with each small vibration that was transferred into her.

Finally the forklift came to a halt in front of a steel rolling door. On a large new sign hanging above it were the words Distillation Room. Keilar quickly exited the forklift and hit the button to open the automatic motor for the door. The large steel portal slowly rolled up and open revealing the room within. The new Distillation Room was a space roughly the size of a classroom. The walls were festooned with computer screens, piping and various pieces of machinery that would shunt fluid to and from the room from different parts of the factory. In one corner of the Distillation Room were a series of shiny brass pipes and regulators, along with a coiled hose in the corner.

Keilar returned to the forklift and set down his cargo near the corner of the room. After some heavy lifting, Keilar had maneuvered May to sit roughly six feet from the corner. Once seated she began looking around idly and moaning while she played with her puffy lips.

Keilar removed a familiar item from the cab of the forklift that he’d grabbed before leaving the conversion wing and strode to the corner occupied by the distracted May..

He walked to the nearby coiled hose and threaded onto it a large blue piece of tubing an inch in diameter and roughly a foot long. He checked to make sure that the threading was tight and then began slowly uncoiling the hose as he walked back to the center of the alcove. He returned to May, gesturing with the pipe. May actually reached out with both of her hands, making grasping motions for the implement that Keilar held.

Keilar checked that the other end of the hose was attached to the proper inert fluid pipe, that the regulator was turned off, and then handed the hose to May.

She moaned, rubbing her thighs together what little that she could and then lowered the pipe between her plump lips. Her groaning intensified as more and more of the pipe was forced down her throat, parting her cartoonishly large lips. Then she let out a moan of frustration.

She kept trying to force the pipe deeper, but it appeared stuck. She wanted to continue the feeling of the pipe pushing down within her, but now it seemed stuck. She tried pulling it out but it wouldn’t do that either.

She reached up to feel around her mouth, and was surprised to feel that her puffy lips had stuck and sealed around the pipe, fusing with it. At that exact moment she became aware of two new growing sensations.

The first was that she felt she was gaining feeling within the pipe itself, a quick exploration with her hands proved it to be true. The pipe was a part of her now, and she could feel her fingers running over it’s smooth cylindrical length. It proved to be just as sensitive as her lips were, and soon she found herself gripping and stroking it. She would have gone on longer but the second sensation was proving to be too distracting.

The feeling of the large plug within her was feeling different, around the plugs base she felt as though she was involuntarily tightening upon the intrusive device.

She was moderately ignorant as to what was occurring aside from the sensations, but Keilar knew.

The introduction of the pipe had triggered the start of the final stage of the conversion. Her rear was sealing around the large plug and within her a space was forming around the large device that was going to be central to her new role.

That reminded Keilar of something he had to do as well, the plug would require power. He quickly retrieved an extension cord from nearby and plugged it into an outlet, then crouching down, he plugged it into the base of the silver plug.

Now that the “Erlenmeyer Plug” had its requisite power, Keilar paired it’s internal memory with the nearby wall computer. The large touch screen was directly above the manifold controlling the nearby liquids. Keilar glanced back over his shoulder at May, who was staring at him.

She had placed one hand on her lower belly, feeling the rounded indentation of the plug, while her other hand continued to feel and stroke her new facial pipe.

Keilar reached down and turned the manifold valve.

There was a rushing sound as the inert fluid rapidly raced through the hose. Both his and May's eyes followed it as it expanded the hose; working out any kinks as it made its way up the hose and toward Mays waiting pipe.

The fluid quickly reached the inlet to what had once upon a time been Otomei Langs mouth, but now was simply the inlet port of BIR 1479. Keilar watched as the form in front of him slowly changed.

“May” was moaning now, her hands squeezing whatever parts of her she could reach, the inrush of fluid filling her lower torso giving her a satisfied sense of wholeness, while at the same time feeding a desire for more.

Her belly was beginning to grow, while at the same time her hips, thighs and butt likewise began to expand. She was becoming rounder and rounder; had she been a bit more aware she would have marveled at the changes she was starting to undertake. Her female form had now become some kind of perversely swollen caveman like ideal of fertility. Cartoonish and fecund, she was beginning to resemble a shiny postmodern Venus of Willendorf.

Her butt was globular, each cheek quickly growing from large melons to exercise balls. Her belly likewise was growing to similar dimensions, along with her thighs. The increasing fluid volume meant that she was now stuck where she was, the weight of the gallons now within her holding her in place butt first, the silver disc of the plug at the very bottom.

She grew larger and larger, the sound of gurgling fluid and creaking rubber filling the room, all of it accompanied by the moans and ecstatic squeals of May.

After a bit more time, Keilar closed the valve.

BIR 1479 was certainly not human anymore. Her definition of her lower form had blended together, the nanorubber within redistributing itself to allow for the continued growth and structure of its form.

What had been the thighs and belly of Otomei had merged, two small indentations in a large four foot wide globe like form were all that remained of her legs, two feet within barely visible which wiggled with pleasure. Behind the huge expanse of her belly was her ass, which had retained some of its form, being needed as a counterbalance to the large form to the front. It sat heavily on the ground, planting BIR 1479 solidly in place.

Of the Erlenmeyer Plug, all that remained was the power cord extending out from one side to a nearby outlet.

Overall, the whole shape was like that of an absurdly large blue pear. Extending from the top of the rounded form was the still recognizable torso of Otomei. She was running the remnants of her hands smoothly over her rounded form, trying to squeeze it and still lightly moaning.

Keilar knew that she couldn’t hear him, her ears vanishing along with most of her facial features, so all he could really do was give her a thumbs up, receiving a pleasure addled nod in return.

Yes, Keilar thought.

She was done. All that remained was to turn her on.

The whole point of an Erlenmeyer was to agitate and heat mixtures or solutions before being pumped to other parts of the factory, and that was the express point of the plug now hidden at her core.

The bio-engineer reached to the nearby wall and hit the key marked “Agitate.”

There was a notification chime from the console, and then a buzzing rattling vibration from BIR 1479, followed almost instantly by a muffled scream from the vestigial being within.

There was a clever bit of molecular engineering at work here

When not exposed to such vibrations, the nanorubber of BIR 1479 was pliable and resilient to puncture, still capable of retaining its rounded form even while empty. But when vibrations of a certain wavelength passed through her, the nanorubber changed it’s molecular shape, becoming rigid and incredibly hard. This was to ensure that the energy from the vibrations were passed to the liquid inside, and not wasted on the body of the BIR.

A side effect was that the close proximity of the agitator to the subjects erogenous zones meant a mind wiping orgasm that would last as long as the vibrations persisted.

Inside of what had at one time been Otomei Langs mind, all thought had vanished, along with even her ability to scream in pleasure. The rigidity of her new form had prevented her from crying out, leaving her silent and staring up at the ceiling, but at the same time, not really seeing at all.

Had she the mental capacity she would have found that she couldn’t move, her hands frozen at her side in the vibrating stillness of her new existence.

Keilar punched in commands into the wall computer, making the agitator operate on ten minute cycles with thirty minute breaks, as a way to both restrain the BIR and conserve electricity. Once that was done, he grabbed his handy stencil set and can of white spray paint.

A quick application of the requisite numbers, and two quick sprays with the paint left the only identity Otemei Lang would ever be known by.

BIR 1479.

If the small piece of humanity left inside the Erlenmeyer flask had any sense of her labeling, she was incapable of showing it. Keilar nearly folded up the stencils, still sticky with paint and walked away from the Distillation Room.

He looked back at BIR 1479, looking up and quivering ever so slightly. He wondered if it was all that she’d wanted. He stared a while longer, then decided that it didn't matter.

The bio-engineer hopped into the cab of the forklift and drove the vehicle out of the room, making sure to lower the steel rolling door along the way..

Keilar parked the vehicle where Mathile had told him to, then shut down the engine. The young maintenence tech was nowhere in sight, likely working on a broken pipe or some such inconvenience that was part of her job description.

Keilar exited the cab of the forklift and stretched. This last conversion had been easy. The kinky ones were almost always a lucky break, which was why he was saving the one volunteer for last.

He shook his head.

That wasn’t true, Fabiana was going to be last.

But before he had to deal with either of them he had to take care of BIR 1463, and he was not looking forward to it.

Keilar began to walk back towards the conversion wing, stretching and rolling his shoulders, mentally and physically preparing himself for the challenge that lay ahead.

BIR 1463, formerly Patricia Barker, was a terrorist who had waged a private war against people like Keilar and the business that he was party to. Her capture had been celebrated by a few of Keilar's coworkers and he had slept easier at night knowing she wasn’t about to chuck a few pounds of explosives into his labs.

She was not going to be easy to convert, which was why Keilar was glad that there was a need for a Van Hausen container. It would make things somewhat easier, but all the same; if the BIR was not cooperative, he was in for a rough job.


	9. Mk 20 Van Hausen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dangerous encounter for Keilar with a combative subject who wants anything but to be turned into a piece of industrial machinery.

atricia Barker was no longer sleeping. She was now awake, trying in vain to discern any kind of sense of her surroundings aside from the inky blackness afforded her with the skin tight latex molecular mask she wore.

Aside from a musty smell that was nearly overpowered by the rubber odor of her mask, she had no real idea where she was. Occasionally over the last few days she thought she’d heard the sound of a chain rattling or of a door closing. Maybe even footsteps. But she hadn’t been able to be sure.

Those few times she’d managed to fall asleep, they had proven to be a fitful one. No cot or pillow to upon, just a cold concrete floor. The nutrient and hydration pellet she’d been force fed before being encased in the mask had removed any need to eat or drink. It was supposed to keep her alive for at least a week, which she realized with a muffled and cynical chuckle, was all that was needed before they forcibly converted her.

She’d known the risks when she and her group of Liberators, a radical Anti-Conversion activist group, had attacked a nanolatex production facility six months before. To Patricia, what was done to women with the synthetic bio catalyst was inhuman. First arriving decades before, the advances made possible by the nanolatex and similar living rubber solutions were truly miraculous. But somewhere along the way, their use had been perverted and abused, in the eyes of Patricia and the Liberators anyway.

Soon women were not only being mentally objectified, but turned into sentient objects themselves. Oh sure some men did, but they were few and far between. In addition there was something special about the additional X chromosome that seemed to make women more conducive to conversion.

At first it had been simply cosmetic, a pair of permanent latex stockings, or a pair of tight never to fray gloves. But gradually it had progressed, and now women, including those convicted of crimes, were being coerced into giving up their biological forms and freedom to become simple pieces of industrial machinery. Granted many were criminals, but Patricia had suspicions that a few innocents had also been subjected to the process.

There was no hope for her however. The bomb that her group had set off at one of the facilities had killed a worker, and her fate sealed once she’d been caught by law enforcement.

So now she waited, waited to become a part of the enormous industry she’d fought for years to dismantle. The thought of it infuriated her. The injustice of all of it. From her capture, to the condescending judge, to the awful smelling mask being placed over her head.

She decided that she wasn’t going down without a fight, that was for certain. She’d tugged at her cuffs several times since her arrival at...wherever she was. She wasn’t sure. She’d lost all track of time; and without any real stimulus or way to tell if it was day or night, time had stretched into a long void.

But she did have to face the realization that her next destination was undoubtedly a place where she’d be forever changed and rendered mostly inhuman, but for a few vestigial features.

She’d been alone with her thoughts for what seemed days. To her it was easily the most tortuous part of the whole process, to be alone with nothing but one's thoughts. She’d begun to wonder how long she’d have to wait when she thought she felt a vibration through the concrete floor.

She was nude except for her mask, a pair of cuffs binding her wrists behind her back, and a metal locking collar, chaining her to a moving track on the ceiling. As such, any movement nearby translated through rumbles that she felt against her skin through the floor.

Patricia placed both her hands on the floor, trying to feel for anything else. Next she leaned down to place her head sideways on the floor to better feel vibrations. Soon, she felt through her palms and the side of her head what could have been the rhythmic thumps of footsteps. They seemed to be drawing closer, then they stopped.

Patricias breathing had intensified, she strained for any other feeling of movement. She realized that she was starting to panic. She forced herself to sit back up on her thighs and calm down, forcibly controlling her breathing. She might have only one chance at escape, and she’d need to be cool and collected for it.

She had just started taking deep breaths when she felt her collar begin to be pulled up accompanied by her chain rattling and jangling as it was pulled into the overhead motorized track. She allowed herself to be hauled to her bare feet, and stood there for a moment.

This was it, she told herself. Just stay calm, and take your opening when it presents itself.

Soon she felt her collar being pulled along by the motorized track, and she felt herself being pulled along behind it. She awkwardly followed blindly, being led along by the inexorable pull of the chain. The progress was slow, and occasionally she’d feel a gloved hand guide her around an object she couldn’t see. Her Conversion Specialist no doubt, an individual for whom she had a burning hatred. They would be the one who changed women like her from living beings, with futures, into utilitary constructions of sentient rubber.

With great mental discipline she prevented herself from assaulting the hand that occasionally touched her. It wouldn’t do to reveal her intentions too early.

Patricia allowed herself to be led along, down what seemed to be a long hallway before turning right for a dozen feet and stopping. From what her group had been able to uncover about the different factories and conversions, she guessed that she was in a small workshop now. She nervously flexed her hands into fists and relaxed them several times, taking deep calming breaths.

She suddenly felt a hand grab her right wrist and start pulling it to the side. Despite her attempt at restraint, the unexpected nature of it caught her off guard still; she lashed out hard with her foot and was satisfied to feel it connect with what felt like someone's abdomen, hard.

The hand grasping her wrist let go, and she wrenched away. She thought very quickly.

She’d showed her cards earlier than anticipated, there was no way to get away with any further subterfuge now. She had landed a blow and now she’d need to follow it up if she had any chance at escaping. Patricia would have preferred to have been freed from her cuffs or hood first, but the time to act was now. She pulled hard at her chain, and was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a good deal of slack. She moved rapidly back where she’d lask kicked her assailant, and felt her shins touch something on the ground, which a moment later she recognized as a prone form.

Mercilessly she kicked at the sprawled form, again and again. She felt her foot connect to a leg, an arm stuck out in protest, then finally what felt like a mask of some kind, at which point any movement or resistance from the prone form ceased.

She skirted around at the extreme length of her chain, feeling for anyone else who might be about to spring on her; but found after what felt like a minute that she was alone with whoever she’d knocked out. Using her feet she dragged the sprawled, hopefully merely unconscious body nearer to her and began to fish around on it’s person with her feet.

The first thing to do was to get her hood off.

She found what appeared to be a wrist computer on the sprawled forms right arm, and began to clumsily punch buttons with her feet. She hoped that one of them released her hood, and didn’t ratchet her chain towards the ceiling. She really didn’t want to accidentally hang herself.

After one or two mashes with her toe, she felt the thin nanolatex hood slough off her face slowly. She shook her head violently, eager to be free of the confinement before finally flinging it off her face with a violent twist of her neck.

Vibrant artificial light flooded Patricia's vision. Tears came to her eyes at the harshness of the light, and the emotion of relief at being able to free herself. After about fifteen seconds of fitful blinking to allow her vision to adjust she looked around the room. As she’d guessed, she was in a workshop of some kind. She looked down at the figure she’d assaulted to see what appeared to be a man in a sealed suit.

Well formerly sealed.

Her last kick had apparently knocked him unconscious and upon hitting the concrete floor, shattered the safety glass of the mask he was wearing. She walked back to him and picked up his wrist with her feet again, struggling to read the controls on his small computer.

She saw the button she was looking for.

“Release Restraints BIR 1463 (Barker, P)”

She carefully pressed her big toe onto the appropriate button. Simultaneously she felt her collar and handcuffs unlatch and fall to the floor with a heavy metallic clatter. She held both fists up to the sky and shouted in triumph.

“YES!”

She almost ran out of the room before stopping herself.

No. That was unwise. How far would she really get if she was naked as a jaybird in a factory? She looked at the unconscious man. She couldn’t fit into his suit, she easily was a foot and a half taller. Patricia was a solid 6’6”, and this technician, while apparently fit, couldn’t match her for size.

She quickly walked to a nearby cabinet and opened it. Inside she found nothing other than a series of coiled attachments for various devices. She walked to another cabinet and threw it open.

Pay dirt.

Inside were several coveralls, like what house painters might wear. They were baggy, and came with hoods she was pleased to see. She quickly threw on a set, zipping it up in front all the way to her neck. Then she reached into the cabinet again for another useful item she’d spotted, a tinted lexan face shield. Affixing the face shield to completely obscure her features she quickly donned a nearby set of gloves was pleased to acquire a pair of clean-space foot covers, like the kind used in hospitals.

She took a moment to admire herself in the nearby mirror. There was no sign of her being anything other than another factory worker, albeit a tall one. She straightened her clothes then returned to the sprawled unconscious man on the floor. For a moment Patricia thought about dosing him with something in the room, but decided that she didn’t want to risk exposing herself to the substance.

Cautiously she moved to the large metal double doors that led into the workshop. She slowly opened one and peeked into the hallway.

It was deserted.

She took a quick look around the room, and then grabbed a nearby hand cart, stacking a few boxes on it, and then walked into the hallway. She tried to walk in a manner she hoped gave off an air of ambivalence, though inside she was incredibly nervous. She neared the end of the hallway, the wheels on the hand cart making annoying squeaky sounds. She made a point not to look at the three black globes along the ceiling near the exit of the hallway.

She figured that they were security cameras of some kind, and passed out the door under their gaze. Suddenly a distorted female voice came over the intercom.

“Worker with the hand cart. Halt.”

Patricia continued walking, pretending she hadn’t heard the announcement, and scanning the main factory floor for a nearby exit. There were several other workers visible, but none had handcarts. A moment passed, and nothing happened. She picked up her pace a little, then the voice boomed out of the speakers again.

“Patricia, stop.”

At the sound of her name, Patricia's head turned and she immediately knew she’d made a mistake. She dropped the hand cart a broke into a sprint. Barely a second later she heard the sound of a warning klaxon echo through the factory, joined by a series of flashing red lights.

Then there was a second noise. A whirring noise followed by a wet sound, like a fist punching a bowl of jello.

Patricia felt something heavy slam into her back. She was knocked forward, feeling the weight of something clinging between her shoulder blades. She continued running when she heard the whirring sound followed by the splat like noise again. A second object hit her, this time on her right shoulder.

The impact, combined with the new unsteady weight, knocked her to the ground. Looking to her right, she saw a reflective black round object stuck to her shoulder. She started to rise, as she moved her left hand to pull it off when she heard the whirring noise again. She’d just gotten one foot up when she heard the splat, a second later followed by an impact to her left calf.

This time she was thrown flat on her face, hearing the sound of running footsteps, she realized that with her cover blown she had to do something drastic. She rolled behind a nearby column, hearing the whirring noise again, then a second and a third time; but no wet sound.

She unzipped her coveralls, shrugging out of the garment that was now burdened by what felt like fifty pounds of whatever the strange foot wide balls were.

Patricia took a deep breath, and threw the overalls out from behind the column hoping to distract whatever was firing the objects at her. She was looking back at where the impacts had come, as she dived out, when she saw the black “cameras” all swing to point at her. Before, in her peripheral vision, they had simply looked like the round enclosures for security cameras, now though she saw what looked like stubby barrels protruding from each one, and all pointed at her.

She managed to shout “No!” when a trio of round spheres were fired at her. Two impacted, the first on her hip, the second on her ribcage. The wind was completely knocked out of her, as she sprawled to the floor again. She was left gasping for a moment, willing her body to move faster than it was, painfully aware of the whirring noise building once again.

She choked out a plaintive cry of frustration, before a trio of reports announced the departure of another three heavy round spheres. They all found their mark seconds later, on her arm, leg and again on her shoulder.

Knocked to the floor by the three impacts, she only managed to make it to her knees before another three landed on her, pinning her to the ground under their weight. She lay face down, struggling to get up, as another three landed, then another three. She slammed her fists on the concrete ground and kicked her legs in frustration, until they too became encumbered, leaving her at last to scream and curse at what she realized was her failed and probably only attempt at escape.

Soon the assault of round weighted objects ceased, followed by the cautious sound of approaching footsteps. She tried to see who was approaching, but could do little more than stare at the surrounding mass of round black objects. Moments later she felt the sting of a taser, then Patricia knew only blackness.

Five Minutes Later

The door to the office of Safety Department Head Fabiana Cortez was thrown open dramatically as Director Bradley stormed in. The banging of the door caused Fabiana to jump slightly, though her form prevented her from doing much else aside from glowering at the intrusive Director.

Fabiana Cortez appeared to be an attractive olive skinned white collar worker with a blonde pixie cut. Though hidden below the massive expansive of her large expensive desk was something else entirely.

Sitting across from her was Bioengineer Keilar Tooms, still holding an ice pack to the side of his head, where an impressive welt was rising from the blow to his cranium he’d received from the now subdued Patricia Barker.

Director Bradley looked at the two of them, a tall man in his late forties with a shock of white hair that was cut in a rough flattop haircut. His voice came out in a demanding growl.

“Did you actually allow an escape to happen Mr. Tooms? That will never happen again! What the fuck happened Keilar?”

Keilar and Fabiana exchanged glances. The two had been working together at the factory for longer than Director Bradley had been in charge of it. Fabiana had been accidentally exposed to several different strains of nanolatex and polymer catalyst in the only major accident at the factory. Some quick thinking by Keilar who’d been present at the time, prevented any immediate lethal effects, but had permanently altered the woman to a significant degree.

Fabiana was for all intents and purposes, immobilized in place; due to the fact that from the waist down she’d become a BIR or Biological Industrial Receptacle. A fancy term for a woman who’d surrendered her biological form to the pleasures of becoming a bloated container or piece of industrial equipment in the factory. The majority of BIRs were convicts, with a few rare volunteers. Fabiana had been the even rarer accidental partial conversion. Keilar's presence at her exposure had allowed her to retain her individuality and human form from the waist up, if only for a few years. Only a few days ago, Fabiana had discovered that despite their best stopgap efforts at slowing the conversion; she’d probably be a full BIR in a few months.

Needless to say, the two of them shared a bond a little closer than most coworkers as a result, and the bullrush of the director into the office immediately put them both on the offensive.

Fabiana's brow furrowed as she stared at The Director. She spoke in a level tone, that never the less conveyed her displeasure admirably.

“What happened was we had an unconverted BIR attempt an escape. Mr. Tooms and myself have submitted requests for a better restraint system for months, just to prevent this sort of thing. Also you haven’t even asked after Keilar's health!”

Director Bradley looked taken aback. Fabiana's inability to stand or walk around the office had not lessened the sting of her displeasure when made known. Part of her settlement with the company following her accident were several secret concessions; and she held a lot of clout here at the factory as a result. At least until her full conversion ran its course.

Keilar Tooms meanwhile simply winced at the shouting. He calmly turned to the director.

“BIR 1463-”

He was referring to Patricia Barkers factory designation, now that she was deemed a piece of equipment,

“-is incredibly strong. She took over two dozen of the Capture and Containment Orbs before she was subdued. I’d say that given our current setup, to convert her by hand is exceptionally dangerous. I’m recommending use of The Tank.”

The hot tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a cold shock.

The Director blinked then stammered,

“The Tank? You-you mean the Total Immersion Converter? We haven’t used it in years. It’s incredibly ineffective.”

Keilar nodded.

“We’re out of options. Also-”

He gestured at Fabiana.

“-her finished Conversion is going to require its use. I’d rather we knew it was functioning properly first. Besides, this isn’t even supposed to be my job. You have me doing BIR Conversions because we’re on a time crunch remember? I’m a Bioengineer, not a Conversion Specialist. I do however, have the most experience; and I’m saying that we need to use the T.I.C.”

At the mention of her name and conversion, Fabiana had blushed and looked away from the two men in the room. She was very self conscious about her altered form, hence the large desk. The large expanse of polished beautiful wood had much to hide. A casual observer might not be able to discern much; but someone with a bit more scrutiny or industry know how would notice a few hoses and tubes that all seemed to run towards the desk or Fabiana, who was conspicuously not seated on any observable chair.

From her waist up Fabiana looked like any normal white collar office worker, albeit a bit more conservatively dressed in a tightly arranged and fully buttoned blouse and jacket. While not visible however, the conversion had begun to work it’s way into many of her biological functions and internal organs to the point that she no longer needed to eat or drink to survive.

Below her waist on the other hand, was something one would never expect to find behind a corporate desk. Starting at her hips, her whole lower body was a rubbery midnight black with a high gloss sheen. For energy production, in order to feed the rampant conversion that threatened to overwhelm her remaining humanity; her rear had been repurposed and grown. Her now expansive ass had swollen to be the size of a small armchair, absorbing most of her thighs and leaving her legs to hang off the ground in a splayed pose that felt rather perverted to Fabiana. The twin globes of her buttocks had been repurposed to storage containers and matter manipulators. Her tight rear hole had been altered as well, growing along with her rear to a large size, nearly as big in diameter as a camera lense and taking on the appearance of a tight rubber industrial seal.

Through her generous, tight rear hole was pumped the raw material for energy conversion via a rubber hose of a matching girth. By focusing the energy of her unwanted conversion on an endless supply of matter, it would keep the nanolatex and other trace rogue polymers from converting the rest of her body. A mixture rich in fats and proteins that mimicked organic matter was used, and for the most part it was very effective at foiling the process. The transformative parts of her body would take the incoming mass and change it at the atomic and molecular level to a more dense material that was used as a fuel or further refinement into other similar chemicals. Fabiana was in a way, a small refinery and chemical plant. She was also one of a kind.

Her condition however, bound her to this place as effectively as a set of manacles. She was coming to terms with giving up her olive skin soon, as well as her ability to speak. Keilar and the Director continued to argue the wisdom of using the Total Immersion Converter; but Fabiana found herself thinking about other things, namely the close call that had just occurred in the conversion wing.

She’d spotted Keilar moving towards the his regular workshop with his next project on one of the security cameras Fabiana routinely watched out of boredom. Keilar, who always worked alone since the accident that had afflicted Fabiana. When she’d seen the figure in coveralls and a mask leave the room that only Keilar and BIR 1463 had entered she’d known that something was wrong and activated the security protocols that armed the three sentry devices.

They’d only been installed last year at her insistence, and now she had proved they were necessary. The Capture and Containment Devices fired fifteen pound orbs that were designed to stick to clothing or bare skin, weighing down the assailant until proper security forces could respond. There was also the fact that the orbs were created inside the Containment devices using some of the material that Fabiana's body helped to create.

The thought of which made her realize that she was about to process another sphere of material.

She could feel her buttocks rippling and churning slightly, arranging their payloads and manipulating them in preparation for the next batch to be released. She looked up to ask for a bit of privacy when she realized that the conversation had reached a conclusion. Director Bradley was speaking and holding the door open for Keilar.

“-authorizing which comes across my desk. We’ll do this one more time this year. Finish up that conversion Mr. Tooms then take a rest. But be sure to work quick. We need these conversions finished, that has priority. I’ll make sure you get paid extra for the rush job. Ms Cortez, do you have anything to add?”

Fabiana shook her head, a red flush of embarrassment and arousal was creeping into her cheeks.

The director appeared not to notice, but Keilar certainly did, making sure to draw the shades on the glass door.

“I can see you’re going to be busy Fabiana, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The churning in her lower body was increasing. Fabiana liked Keilar, whom she called K for short, and wished her body wouldn’t betray her like this when he was trying to be sweet.

“No problem K. Close the door after you please, and -guh-”

She let out an involuntary exclamation as a sudden pleasurable spike heralded the start of one of an inevitable process below her waist.

“-come back bu-uhhgah-, sorry, come back by later. Ok?”

Keilar nodded quickly, all too aware of what was about to transpire and closed the door.

Fabiana gripped one of two subtle brass handles she’d had installed on her desk, just for this purpose. She then withdrew a soft pliable plastic tube and bit down on it.

The thing about being a BIR, was that it was far from a horrible fate. Sure nearly all your humanity vanished, along with your connection to the outside world; but the upside was pleasure beyond imagining. Fabiana just wished she could have done without, that.

The pleasure was fine, she could even have dealt with the immobility in time, but her immense bottom was only part of the equation. All of that matter she was taking in and changing through her puckered rubbery hole, had to leave somehow, and leave in a condensed form. That was what the second part of her change had been, and was really what she hid under the oak desk.

In the Caliph Industries product catalog, what protruded from Fabiana's crotch was known as a “Mk 8 Gel Distributor,” but to anyone who saw it, it just looked like a four foot long, six inch wide phallus.

It was rigid, all the time, and down it’s girth in a few seconds would travel a spherical nodule of dense highly adaptive material about the size of a golf ball. The feeling of it’s creation and passage could only be described as mind shatteringly orgasmic. Fabiana flexed her fingers on the brass grips and chewed the plastic gag she held in her mouth, preparing for what was coming.

Then she felt it.

Something began to press forward from her hips, and then entered the base of her long cock like appendage.

“GGGNNNGGUUHHH”

Even around the gag, her moan sounded rather loud in the large corner office.

The nodule moved forward, being contoured and shaped along its journey. A second later she heard the whirring from the vacuum pump under the desk attached to the head of her phallus. She threw her head back at the feeling, her hands rattling two brass grips on her desk as she began to whine in anticipation through her improvised plastic gag.

The sensation of a building climax and the onrushing expulsion of the nodule was almost overloading her mind, like it did every time. The number of items she created in a day had once been only one or two, but now it was one nearly every half hour. Fabiana had luckily found a compatible medication that allowed her to sleep but that didn’t prevent the process from occurring, leaving her in the mornings occasionally feeling more exhausted than when she’d dozed of in a pharmaceutically induced haze.

The pleasure continued to climb, and Fabiana began to bounce and rock on her expansive seat like ass to try to climax, making moans with each bounce that gradually increased in rapidity, urgency and pitch.

“Uhnn, uhnn, uhnn, uhnnuhnnuhnn!””

Finally, rocking back as far as she could, kicking her feet in audible knocking sounds against her desk she felt and heard the spherical nodule depart her and get sucked down an appropriate tube for processing and storage.

She didn’t scream out, choosing to bite down as hard as she could on the gag, whimpering and squinting her eyes shut, before letting her mouth go slack. The soft plastic tube smacked her desk, followed shortly after by Fabiana's torso. She rested her face on the cool oak surface, letting her breathing return to normal. She felt another pump below her push more of the faux organic slurry into her rear, filling the void she’d just made, and starting the process anew.

After a moment where she caught her breath, she composed herself using a mirror in her desk and a hairbrush, then glanced at her desk clock.

It had only been twenty minutes since her last climax, they were getting faster.

She put her head in her hands as she heard the fluid pump turn off and the sensation of her ass resumed its “normal” taut as a drum feeling.

She didn’t have long left, this whole pretending at being a real person was going to disappear soon. She pulled up the security cameras for the T.I.C. room, seeing Keilar in a new containment suit and mask supervising the loading of BIR 1463 (formerly Patricia Baker) onto a platform. She was almost indistinguishable from the many round black orbs stuck to her nude body.

Fabiana looked at Keilar on the video feed. He was the one who’d agreed to finish her conversion. She had him to thank for this stay on her inexorable sentence, and he’d be there for her at the end. She wondered briefly if they’d ever had anything before the incident, but realized that while compassionate to his friends, the distant Bioengineer had never expressed any ideas that one might call romantic.

Not to her anyway.

Fabiana decided to distract herself from these thoughts and pulled up some of her work documents on the computer and set about editing them, trying to ignore the tingling sensations from below that signalled the unstoppable progress of yet another nodule slowly taking shape.

The T.I.C. Room

Keilar Tooms watched as three workmen in blue coveralls lowered the heavy prone form of BIR 1463 onto a metal platform, which in turn was suspended above a large round metal tank. The Total Immersion Converter, known among the workers as “The Tank,” was easily the size of a water tower cistern, and was kept separate from the factory for a very good reason.

When in use, it was full of nanolatex, kept in an active state by various energy distributors along its base, lending it an odd purple glow. The use of this device was usually prohibitively expensive, due to the safety concerns and the amount of nanolatex required. This much of the very unstable substance proved to be extremely dangerous, as soon as BIR 1463 was on the steel landing Keilar motioned for the workers to retreat back across a railed catwalk and to leave the building. He then climbed a nearby ladder into an enclosed booth that was supposed to be safe from any splash or “violent dissociation” of the material.

Keilar laughed to himself under his breath at the thought.

“Violent dissociation” was just a fancy word for “explosion.”

Seeing that all personnel were out of the room except for himself, he ordered the room sealed via a control panel, and then “uncaged” the tank. A large plastic cover slowly pulled back from the top of the tank, revealing the lazily swirling rubbery liquid inside. The effect was to bathe the entire room in an eerie purple light.

Keilar moved a couple dials on the console, and a large glass like container roughly twelve feet in diameter and twelve feet high lowered from the ceiling to seal above the platform, preventing BIR 1463 from escaping its confines.

Keilar then entered a number of commands into a nearby console. On the floor of the platform, the round shiny black balls pinning Patricia in place, began to slowly release themselves and roll off her body one by one. Soon they were laying around on the floor of her enclosure, as harmless and inert as the medicine balls one finds in a gym or health spa.

Keilar kept one eye on the video feed of the sprawled form of BIR 1463 while he punched in more commands for the T.I.C. His hand absently went to the still sizeable lump on his temple. He was very wary of her resourcefulness and cunning, but was determined that this time, she was finished. The experienced Bioengineer finished his preparations, all that he needed was to punch the execute key.

He watched and waited.

Four minutes later, Patricia began to stir on the floor.

The first thing she was aware of was the absence of her cumbersome spherical restraints. She stood up shakily, feeling herself accidentally touch one of the nearby shiny balls. Instead of sticking to her however, it simply rolled away from her. She still flinched back nervously and avoided touching any others.

Then she took in her surroundings. Above her was a glass like enclosure, which was sealed tight against the cold steel floor she was resting on. She had a circular space of about twelve feet under the glass, which was mostly filled with the strange balls that had recaptured her.

Looking outside the glass at the far end of the room she saw the top of what appeared to be two large metal doors that were currently closed. The entire room was bathed in a strange purple light, from some source below the platform she was standing upon. Patricia tried to get a better view, she noticed that her platform extended beyond her glass enclosure a good twenty feet in either direction, blocking her vision of whatever was casting the purple glow. The only way off of the platform appeared to be a single catwalk. That catwalk in turn led to the far wall of the room and once there it to a small ramp which she assumed led to ground level. At the opposite end of the room, close to the large doors, was a ladder which led up to a small observation booth above her.

Inside which was a single figure in a containment suit, just like the man she’d knocked unconscious. She looked around in sudden fear, and saw above her at the top of the glass chamber, a small grate attached to what she assumed was a ventilation hose. She eyed it warily, and with no small degree of fear.

There were no speakers in the glass container. But she threw up both middle fingers at the figure in the booth all the same and shouted.

“Fuck you asshole!”

The outburst made her feel better, until she saw the figures response.

The individual in the booth raised one hand and their index figure, waving it back and forth in a chastising motion. Then they dramatically pointed it down towards something she couldn’t see in the booth. Slowly the figure lowered their hand and, a spike of fear drilled into Patricia.

Despite her earlier stubbornness she suddenly waved her hands placatingly, then banged on the glass.

“No! Nonono! Wait! Please!”

The figures hand disappeared from sight, and a second later the purple light in the room changed to a much bright and vibrant shade, almost pink in color. Patricia looked around, trying to find some way to defend herself. Against what she didn’t quite know. None of her organization's research had said anything about a room like this.

Then she felt the steel floor beneath her shift slightly. Looking down she saw a crack, that had been so minute before as to be nearly impossible to notice, begin to widen. It revealed the enormous tank below her filled with what appeared to be a liquid, but wasn’t transparent in the least. It appeared a neon violet or dark pink in color it’s tones and shades rippling in a kaleidoscopic fashion that was almost hypnotizing. After a moment she tore her gaze away and frantically stepped back, ignoring the round balls around her this time, batting several aside as she moved with a haste borne of fear and panic. She edged as far away from the growing gap in the floor as she could get, finally pressing her nude body flat against the glass walls of her prison.

Even now though, she knew it was ultimately futile. She’d resisted, and lost.

One of the black balls rolled off the edge and fell into the waiting viscous purple fluid below. It impacted the surface with a smacking plop and was neatly swallowed by the violet mass with barely a gurgle.

A fearful thought suddenly gripped Patricia.

What if this wasn’t a conversion process? What if her escape disqualified her or something? Was there something else that they were allowed to do to her?

She began to frantically attempt to climb the sheer slick glass, with no result aside from knocking a few more balls into the widening gap. A moment later she heard a series of wet impacts as they hit the slightly burbling fluid. The noise only fed into her panic more.

Very little of the tall woman now resembled the determined individual who just this morning had come closer than any other BIR to escaping. The composure had vanished. She was starting to shout in frustration as she threw herself against the glass barrier that was now the only thing keeping her from an eternity as a pleasure addled object, or even worse. Each sound of the spheres impacting the surface below drove the point home.

She was becoming more and more spastic, and while running to the side under the ventilation grate and hose, twelve feet above, a careless step landed on one of the few remaining balls, making her fall. Her hasty momentum carried her just far enough to slide on the slick metal and into the gap, which now covered over half the floor space.

She scrambled to try and hold on to something, anything, the lip of the widening gap or maybe a crack between the glass and the floor, but she couldn’t.

Seemingly slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, Patricia Baker, BIR 1463, fell down towards the waiting vat of purple material below her. Looking up she saw the widening crack of her enclosure shrinking, and had just enough time to glance over to see the figure in the booth waving at her on the way down; when the rim of the vat raced past her vision.

Just as fast as she’d fallen she stopped. She’d landed on her back with wettish flap and all the grace of a child's doll dropped into a mud puddle. She floundered very briefly trying to maybe swim out of the sticky, melted wax like liquid.

It wasn’t like water in a pool. It was thicker. She’d barely managed to orient herself vertically, feeling her legs then her waist slide below the surface along with a dreadful sinking feeling. She felt the oily and sticky material clinging to her back as she tried to paddle with her hands, only to find that she was unable to lift them back up out of the clingy material. Before she knew it, she’d sunk up to her collar bone. She began to shout in a panic, struggling and straining.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-”

She felt herself sink further, and when the fluid touched her chin she instinctively took a deep breath as she slid down, feeling her mouth become covered in the awful stuff, then it hit her nose. She was assaulted by the rubbery smell and before she was totally submerged she closed her eyes one final time.

Then with a small “-blip-” that wasn’t even audible to Keilar all the way in the booth, Patricia Barker vanished from sight.

Keilar studied the readouts on his computer in the control booth. Everything was within nominal parameters, and The Tanks integral sensors were saying that while very excited and in a panic, BIR 1463 was still conscious and alive. Keilar watched the readouts for any sign of abnormality aside from a rapid heart rate, until he saw that the nanolatex had bonded properly with her skin and was now providing her with the oxygen and minor nutrients she needed.

Keilar sighed in satisfaction and sat down in the swivel chair in the booth settling in for a long conversion. The T.I.C. process was slow, but it turned out the best product beyond any doubt. He kept an eye on the monitors, while he pulled up his work email folder and began to plug away at his considerable backlog of correspondence.

Inside The Tank Patricia had been in full blown panic mode for about half a minute, convinced that these were her last moments alive. She was completely blind, her whole body coated in the purple substance that had stuck to every inch of her skin. The claustrophobic nature of her surroundings were exceptionally frightful, and her lungs burned for air. She’d tried to open her mouth but found she couldn’t. Just when she thought that she would pass out, the fiery feeling in her lungs subsided.

Then it stopped all together.

She didn’t need to breathe anymore. She tried to open her mouth again and once more found she couldn’t. On one hand the this was a comfort, as it meant she wasn’t going to suffocate, but on the other hand it was terrifying since it meant she was definitely not human anymore.

Then she felt her feet touch something solid. She became aware that she could move her arms and legs more freely. It was still thick, like trying to move through a room of molasses, but she wasn’t constricted like before. She took one plodding step then another through the syrupy thick material. Then she came to a shocking realization.

She was at the bottom of the tank.

She raised a hand to her face, trying to find whatever obstruction was stopping her from opening her mouth. Her hands, now coated in the material, touched her chin and then nothing but a smooth slick surface. Her orifice, like her ears, and nostrils had been erased. Smoothed over by the slick material she was wading through like thick syrup. She felt the rest of her body then, and was surprised to find that her sense of touch remained, having been apparently transferred to the slick rubber that was now coating her.

Along with obvious identifying features like her ears, she found her fingernails had been smoothed over too, as though she had on a tight pair of gloves, along with her toenails. Her nipples, were also gone. She slowly and apprehensively then ran her hand down to her crotch.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgusted. Her sex was still there. Sort of. A nervous probing revealed that she couldn’t be penetrated any more than a knuckles depth. Her inner and outer folds were still there, along with a nub of a clitoris; but that was it. Her mind was progressing logically over the rest of her body, and she realized that there was one place she hadn’t checked. Yet try as she might she couldn’t bring herself to probe between her rear cheeks.

Slowly, she began to emotionally harden herself to her new reality and decided that she wasn’t done yet. She could still move, sort of, and would find a solution. She was fairly confident that she was at the bottom of the tank she’d fallen into. Her first goal, was to find information. She slowly started walking around, soon finding a rounded wall confirming her hypothesis. Patricia tried to discern any noise but found that like her sight and sense of smell, her hearing had almost entirely vanished.

Walking was a very peculiar sensation. She’d swim for exercise occasionally, but this was different. She was able to walk, but very slowly. Each step requiring a lot of effort, as she pushed her way through the viscous nanolatex surrounding her. She also had to struggle to keep her feet, as the floor (like everything else) was coated in the same slick material.

While slowly walking around the bottom of The Tank, she felt her foot strike something, and awkwardly bent down to feel it. It was heavy, and round. Patricia turned it over in her hands, feeling for a clue as to it’s form. She realized a moment later due to it’s weight and shape that it was one of the round balls which had fallen into the pool with her. She was just beginning to wonder if she could perhaps find all of them, stack them, and climb out when she felt the ball dissolve in her hands.

Patricia was wondering what this meant for her when she became aware a strange vibration through the floor, like a nearby piece of machinery had kicked on. The rhythmic vibrations appeared to be coming from the center of the tank. Curiosity got the better of Patricia, coupled with the relief of being technically still what one might call “alive,” and she moved closer to the vibrations through the thick material inside The Tank.

The vibrations grew in intensity the closer she got to what she believed to be the epicenter. Like before, her sense of time was skewed by a complete lack of visual references. She noticed somewhat unsettlingly, that she couldn’t even go by her heartbeat. It had stopped.

If she could have nervously gulped, she would have. Unknown to her, there was indeed very little of her original organic form left. Permeating from her skin and in, the exceptionally aggressive nanolatex of The Tank had converted most of her body into a material much like itself. This in turn would make her compatible with what was to come next.

Patricia felt she must be close, when one of her questing outstretched hands encountered a strange resistant object. It was slightly more solid than her surroundings, and appeared to be vibrating. Moving around it and feeling it with outstretched arms she realized that it was in the rough shape of two globes joined slightly at the middle. They both had a lot of flexibility and give, but did resist her gradual pushes and prods. She continued her exploration and investigation, coming to the conclusion that they must both be about four feet in diameter. She had no idea whether they had formed in the tank, or had been in here at the start.

A sudden idea occurred to her.

If she could climb on top of them, she might be able to reach out of the tank!

She slowly began to slowly climb up the side of the two strange spherically joined objects. They had firmed up slightly to have the consistency of two large round couch cushions. She soon was positioned kneeling on top of the objects, and then attempted to stand. With no real foothold she slipped and fell, slowly through the thick liquid, but falling all the same to land next to the round objects.

She tried again, with the same result.

Frustrated she climbed up a third time, staying in a kneeling position reaching up awkwardly, hoping her hand would break the surface. It didn’t.

She sat back on what she was already thinking of as a pair of beanbag chairs, crossing her arms and thinking. The vibration seemed to be coming from directly below her, permeating up through the globes and into her, making her rear tingle pleasurably. The feeling was not unlike those expensive massage chairs, and the tension and stress of the day, combined with the first pleasurable experience had a pronounced effect on Patricia.

She relaxed slightly. Deciding to just rest for a moment, there was no immediate threat that she could discern. She thought about her day, remembering her escape, her kicks to the man in the mask. If she could have wistfully smiled, she would have. Patricia idly ran her hands over her artificially slick thighs, she found a mix of feelings, but a modest curiosity and consternation.

She’d been changed, but was it really all that bad?

Yes, she told herself. It was. Wasn’t it?

The light hum and vibrations below her continued. If Patricia was a bit more observant, she might have been able to notice some of the changes taking place around her. At the moment however, she was preoccupied with her existential thoughts.

She didn’t perceive therefore, the fact that the globes upon which she was seated were changing shape and consistency. Becoming a bit rounder, and firmer, while around her the viscosity of the nanolatex was diluting. It was becoming more like a fluid and less like thick wax. It almost seemed as though the forms beneath her, were absorbing the surrounding density.

Patricias time sense again was ruined, some time later in the midst of some introspective thoughts she felt a rising and falling pulsing in the vibrations. It shocked her and she immediately scrambled from on top of the objects, sliding down the now surprisingly firm round shape and to the bottom. She’d also noticed the speed of her descent, and the ease with which she moved through the fluid.

Unnerved, Patricia backed away from the rising and falling vibrations, until once more she was backed against the wall of the tank.

Outside the tank, Keilar glanced at the computer screen. The readout told him that the T.I.C. was now beginning the merge phase. Glancing at a nearby clock Keilar nodded in satisfaction. As always, it was right on time. Looking out of the booth at The Tank, he noticed that the nanolatex had changed color, losing some of it’s vibrancy and brightness. It now as a much more muted and flat light purple.  
Crab walking his chair over to a different panel, Keilar warmed up the next device necessary for completing the BIR conversion when the time came. A large armature with a glass tube descended from the ceiling, pausing above The Tank, waiting for commands from Keilar.

Inside The Tank, the vibrations had increased to the point that Patricia felt them passing into her, even at the far side of The Tank. She’d also noticed that she’d begun to feel heavier, her movements had become slower and lethargic despite the apparent decreased density of her surroundings.

Then Patricia became aware of a pull. Not immediately noticeable, but it felt like she was being drawn back towards the center of the tank. Back towards the round objects in the middle.

She managed to resist at first, but rather than subside, she felt as though someone was slowly coiling a rope she had tied around her waist, hoisting her slowly back towards the center of The Tank. Patricia turned around, facing the wall of The Tank and frantically searching for a handhold of any kind, finding only seamless metal walls.

The pull increased.

She staggered her feet, bracing herself to resist the force. Now there was the combined feeling of being in a rushing current and trying to stand against it. Slowly she began to slide backward.

Patricia tried to take a solid step towards the wall, to keep distance. As soon as she lifted her foot however, the loss in traction and stability caused her to fall, ass first towards the ground. Even as she fell she felt the steady pull, and upon landing she realized the closer to the center she was, the stronger the pull became.

She groped the slick floor of The Tank desperately, but after five feet, the exponential acceleration was so great that she could barely slow her progress. Soon she was sliding quickly across the floor until thudding ass first into the familiar globes from earlier.

The round structures had changed, far from the soft beanbag like form from earlier, they had stiffened to have more rigidity and form. Patricia was feeling around frantically, as she felt her ass pinned to the round structures. This only lasted a short time however.

The vibrations this close to the center were intense, and soon her still functional erogenous zone began to be assaulted by the unstoppable sensations. The pleasurable feeling started to have an effect on her mind. Anger was the first emotion, but that only made the contented feeling more frustrating. Patricia was trying hard not to enjoy the proceedings but the perverse palpitations in her nethers couldn’t be denied.

Gradually the feeling asserted itself over her, despite her frustrated punches on the globes and her feeble kicks to try to break free. Soon her resistance lessened and dwindled away to nothing, as her hand, involuntarily at first and then with spiteful resignation crept to her crotch and began to gently and then violently massage her groin. Her climax didn’t take long at all, and the harsh vibrations helped her climb. After just a few minutes ministrations from her practiced hand, her feek kicked and torso involuntarily shook in a silent orgasm.

But it didn’t stop. It didn’t fade away slowly like all her other orgasms did. It stayed at its peak.

Patricia continued to twist and flick her nethers, riding the splendid apex of ecstasy.

She knew that this wasn’t normal, but the feeling was too good to make her stop. Her right hand spun and twirled between her legs, while her left hand groped and massaged her rubbery tits and slick thighs. She wanted it to go on forever, while at the same time, wishing for the unnatural and unrequested pleasure to cease.

Her body seemed to be moving on it’s own now, her ass held tight at the crease between the two firm orbs, firmly squeezed against them by the unknown attractive force.

Patricias masturbation and seeming eternity of an orgasm helped disguise the slow changes too her body. She had started to absorb more of the surrounding nanolatex, which was now plumping up two aspects of her body. The first was her genitals, which were steadily growing in size from their normal feminine shape to the size of a grapefruit. Her clit now was the size of a grape. The second was what had been her tight asshole. It was swelling, and taking on a strange industrial appearance, becoming a smooth round circle like an inner tube.

Patricia revelled in her primal pleasure. Any real resistance to the transformative process was nothing more than a fast fading memory at this point. She was focused intently on simply satisfying her urges and riding the high crest of this wave of indulgence.

Therefore her changes went unnoticed. Or perhaps, they were willfully ignored by someone who is attempting to isolate themselves from the reality of their situation by falling totally into the sensations of the now.

Regardless, as Patricia continued to pleasure herself, she changed.

In addition to her slowly swelling asshole and genitals, she began to be pulled back against the globes to her rear. The stiff surface gave little by little, conforming to the shape of her thighs and pressing up against her butt and groin. A hard bulge, roughly six inches in diameter, like a softball under a shiny blanket, began to form and press against her crotch. It was vibrating like the rest of the globes that Patricia was pressed against, but felt more dense.

Searching for more sensations and deeper pleasures, the addled woman leaned forward, grinding her vulva, now the size of a honeydew melon against stiff round obstruction. She moved her hands up to her chest, arching her back and head in pleasure as she ground her groin against the small slick globe. Her clit, now as round as a lemon, touched its surface.

Patricias mind overloaded with sensation. She was almost all synthetic now, a living rubber and latex being, those few biological facilities still intact thoroughly infiltrated by the artificial tendrils of her new form. When she’d pressed her enlarged nub against the vibrating source, it had proven too much for her and her control failed.

Her back and legs spasmed, shaking uncontrollably, she threw her hands to her sides running them against the round objects behind her while tossing her head from side to side.

Slowly, her mound and labia below the clit began to lose definition, joining the bulge it was pressed against. They knit themselves together like melting wax until joined as one. The same was occurring along her thighs as she began to become one with the large objects to her rear. Her butt seemed to orient itself, making her newly expanded fat rear hole flush with the surface.

She stopped half sunk into the massive forms behind her, and the pleasure began to recede along with the vibrations. A tingling began to pass over Patricia, and she slowly began to gain feeling of the massive round ball like structures to which she had been merged. She slowly ran her hands on either side, feeling their girth and roundness, not even able to reach halfway around their circumference.

Slowly Patricia's mind began to reassert itself, appalled at the change that had been visited upon her and chastising herself for allowing it to happen so easily. She tried to move, to drag her massive form across the tank, but found that far from being hollow, her new round appendages felt full of something. They kept her pinned in place under the weight of their contents.

She thought for a minute about digging once more into the hedonistic pleasures to be found in her love button, sitting astride the strange nodule that had fused and erased the rest of her womanhood, but stopped. She simply leaned back against her form and crossed her arms, resolving not to enjoy herself any further.

Up in the control booth, a window popped up on Keilar's screen.

Stage One Completed.

He closed out the notification and punched in a few more command lines using the interface.

A second window appeared with a countdown timer.

Final stage commencing in 120 seconds.

He watched as the glass tube on a robotic armature slowly lowered itself into the pool of viscous liquid. It had been fabricated for just this purpose, and while the The Tank had seen plenty of use, it was the first time that this piece of equipment would be used.

It looked like a large test tube, roughly six inches wide and three feet long, and attached to a hose that led to a nearby suction pump. It slowly lowered itself into the fluid, and guided itself towards its lemon sized target.

Being robbed of nearly all her sensations aside from touch meant that Patricia had next to no warning of the tubes impending approach. She felt a vibration through the floor that might have been something different, but her first real warning of something being amiss was when the round mouth of the glass tube pressed over her groin, encasing her swollen clit.

She had just enough time to grab the tube and try to impotently hoist it off of her, when its suction pump turned on, drawing itself tightly against the slick rubber skin of Patricia's crotch.

The foreign contact with her freakishly sensitive button was like a bolt of lightning, that was soon joined by a wholly different sensation. A feeling of a great welling up, of an urge for release unlike anything she’d experienced before. But unlike before, this time she’d retained her will of resistance, and futily punched the glass tube, hoping to knock it off of her.

The feeling continued however, unabated. There was a painful tightness in her groin now as the suction slowly drew her clit up and up into the fat tube, swelling to fit it’s confines and starting to rise.

Soon it was roughly the size of a two litre coke bottle, and continuing its progress, gaining more and more of a phallic shape that would have sickened Patricia if she could have seen it. Her legs had been moved aside slightly to make room for the tube and her turgid pillar of latex. Soon, it seated itself in the cup of the tube, pressing firmly against the small vacuum hole opening. The whole thing had a stiff unnatural uniformity that betrayed its industrial purpose. It’s length jutting from her unlike any organ found in nature.

But the suction did not cease.

Neither did the sensation deep within what Patricia had now realized with growing horror, were her massive balls. Sure there’d be some technical term for them, but the fact was that no one who saw them could think those round globes joined to her groin and pseudophallus could be anything else.

The sensation crept up, from deep within her, up to her groin, and then slowly up her shaft. It was like a hollowness was building within it, and while she wished for it to stop, to just cease and go away, there was now an ever more vocal part of her brain that wanted to see what would happen next.  
It didn’t have long to wait, creeping inexorably up her new artificial pipe the strange stimulation finally reached the tip, and in a brief mix of pleasure and pain, she felt an opening take shape at the head. In a kind of rush, she felt the substance of her balls leave her, some fluid that raced out in an approximation of a male orgasm that left her feeling empty and drained at its violence and rapidity.

Fluid rapidly left her, racing up and out, drawn by the vacuum pump. Soon she could feel a hollowness within her, along with a perverse urge to be full once again in order to repeat the process.

To Keilar, whose view of the entire affair was limited simply to a metal armature and transparent vacuum tube, all he saw of Patricia's first expulsion was a rush of pink fluid up the small tube that seemed to go on for a full minute before ceasing. That meant that she was done.

Keilar ordered the retrieval team to prepare for pickup while he ordered The Tank drained from his computer.

Finally the nanolatex receded, drawn out by openings in the floor which had slid open at the punch of a button. After a few minutes, all that remained in the pool was the bloated form of BIR 1463. The pleasure had mostly vanished, leaving her confronted with nothing other than her inescapable new form, whose size and weight were as effective at restraining her as any cell or ball and chain.

She held her head in her hands in frustration, and while unable to visually take in her new attributes, her artificially heightened sense of touch made up for it.

Her faux cock and balls were larger than her, she was astride them almost as an afterthought, a vestigial remnant of their creation.

Nodding in approval at the newly created BIR sitting in The Tank, Keilar ordered in the retrieval team. A set of four workers wearing containment suits brought a large motorized cart into the room, the size of a truck bed and stationed themselves near the rim of the tank. Keilar punched a final command into the computer and watched as the tube and armature began to rise from the pool, pulling BIR 1463 up and out by her new member.

The sensation wasn’t painful at all, mildly pleasurable if anything, the only feeling Patricia felt was the sting of embarrassment as she was pulled up out of the empty tank by her exaggerated attributes. She found herself hugging her turgid length of latex flesh, her balls swinging below her as she felt the pull of gravity. Her sense of mortifying embarrassment was increased two fold however when she felt herself lowered and the gloved hands of the retrieval team guided her swollen form onto the flat cart bed. Then with a wet POP one of the team members pried the glass tube off of her mock cock, while another applied the final detail to her distended attributes.

With a quick spray to her expansive balls, the moniker of BIR 1463 marked her for her new purpose in large black block letters, standing out on her glossy mauve skin. The cart began to slowly roll towards the door, carrying this next piece of equipment off to its work area.

Keilar watched the cart drive off.

He felt oddly apathetic, and wondered about the feeling. As much as he might try to distract himself from the thought, the reality was that BIR 1463, had once been a person. A person he’d changed. A person named Patricia.

Patricia had it coming sure, but who really could blame her?

His hand went to the blossoming bruise on his jaw and then to the knot growing on his forehead.

He couldn’t escape the conclusion that he would have acted just as she did in a similar situation.

Then he thought of the director, who had lambasted him in Fabiana's office for negligence, never asking after his well being, or his health until prompted by his friend.

Fabiana. The only one here who really cared about him, now that he thought of it.

And she’d wouldn’t be around much longer, not as she was now anyway.

What would become of him then?

Keilar became aware that his breath had caught in his throat and he forced himself to breathe again.

He was about to call Fabiana when his wrist computer buzzed, and a prim proper picture of her appeared on the screen.

“K, can you come to the office real quick. I need to talk to you.”

Keilar watched as Patricia borned on her last trip disappeared through the doors.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. I need to talk some things over with you.”


	10. Production Line Holiday Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar and Fabiana remember better times gone past.

Fabiana Cortez, had been watching the latest BIR conversion from the live security camera feed in her large office. This was largely what her life had become since the incident, a day of paperwork and attentive scrutiny of various screens.

Fabiana had been an industrial accident, and suffered a fate that could have been lethal if not for the quick actions of her friend Keilar Tooms, an engineer for the factory and former Conversion Specialist. The polymers and transformative substances that Fabiana had been exposed to could have been fatal, rendering her a chaotic mess of nanolatex or similar material.

Keilar had engineered on the spot a hybrid Biological Industrial Receptacle (BIR for short) design which helped to contain and organize the rogue transformatives and allowed Fabiana to have a semblance of a normal life; albeit a temporary and immobile one.

Sacrifices had needed to be made, and while from the waist up the hispanic woman appeared to be no different than any other executive office worker in her 30’s, below the waist and hidden under her expansive oak desk, Fabiana's body was what one could only describe as freakish.

BIRs were typically criminals, who chose to become pieces of industrial equipment as an alternative sentence. The transformation process and use of one's body was engineered to be pleasurable; but the main sacrifice was ones freedom and most of their humanity. A BIR was really just a large storage tank or flask used in the creation or storage of chemicals, that had vestigial human aspects.

It was not a fate one typically chose freely.

Fabiana now possessed a gargantuan backside. Two globular cheeks, each almost three feet across had absorbed her thighs nearly to her knees, leaving her legs protruding straight out almost a foot above the ground.

Fabiana's ass was now a kind of microfactory, which converted inbound matter instead of the rest of Fabiana's human form. Through her massive rear hole, which now had more in common with industrial piping than a human anus, was pumped copious amounts of a protein rich slurry that was slowly converted into dense energy nodules which were later used elsewhere in the factory.

All that was but nothing compared to the long phallic, and to Fabiana, shameful, appendage that stood stiffly from her groin. It was the other half of her altered form, a long turgid passage that shaped and condensed the nodule on it’s way out of her body.

The one consolation of course, was that it felt amazing.

Fabiana could feel the end of her humanity closing in on her. Her current form was meant to slow her conversion, but it would never be entirely stopped. Each day a small bit of her old body and seemingly part of her being was drained away.

She’d taken some medication to reduce her sensitivity, but that didn’t stop the fact that she was now expelling a completed nodule every ten to twenty minutes. The intervals were shortening and realistically that meant that her ability to work was being reduced. Granted she had already trained her successor, but the prospect of the rapid approach of the end made her anxious.

She continued to watch Keilar from the video feed while she straightened herself once more. He was supervising the moving of the latest BIR conversion he’d been tasked with performing, calmly and professionally.

Fabiana Cortez watched on a security monitor as Keilar Tooms started to walk towards the exit to the room housing the Total Immersion Converter. He left the room and began removing his helmet and tied the upper part of his containment suit around his waist, before striding towards the opposite end of the factory; where her office was located.

Fabiana dialed up his wrist computer and seconds later Keilar answered.

“K, can you come to the office real quick? I need to talk to you.”

On camera she saw Keilar nod and then respond, and for the first time in a while she head a different note in his voice; one of uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. I need to talk some things over with you.”

He hung up.

Fabiana likewise turned off the display screen and looked around her office. It had been built years ago to house her. It contained advanced wiring and industrial hoses. A single door led in and out, but the far featureless wall was capable of rotating up out of the way to allow her massive bulk to be removed when necessary, either for checkups, or her final departure.

As the Safety Department Head, Fabiana had the layout of the factory almost memorized, and knew it would take Keilar a while to reach her, the factor being as massive as it was. This was a good thing as she wanted to try to expel one more nodule before Keilar arrived. There were a few things that she wanted to discuss with him, and the somewhat arousing feeling from her expansive buttocks was the cause of it, a familiar twinge and pressure in her groin announcing the completion of another nodule.

But something felt off this time. It felt more, urgent.

Fabiana had barely enough time to grab her makeshift gag out of a desk drawer and bite down upon it before the pleasure hit her once again. The familiar welling up in a twisted approximation of what she guessed a male orgasm began like. Starting at the base of her cock like protrusion she felt something begins it’s long journey, then to her shock and horror, she felt a second similar shape follow it. A second nodule. This was the first time she’d produced two at once, and that could only mean that her conversion was beginning to accelerate.

Her expulsion this time was also quicker than the others. Only a minute between its start and her body quaking climax that expelled both of the energy nodules into a waiting vacuum pump to be whisked away for storage.

The whole experience had been savage, an almost violent assault upon her mind and senses. She felt the gag drop from her slack mouth onto her desk as the pump behind her simultaneously kick in, pumping more slurry into her “tanks.”

Soon the process would start again, and she felt that this time it would arrive sooner. She felt her breathing begin to settle down and once more straightened herself and her attire.

She found herself staring at the opposite wall, it would take Keilar about five to ten minutes to reach her from the other side of the factory, and as she stared at the wall a feeling of melancholy began to settle over her.

Then she spotted the empty tree stand at the far corner of the room. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, that had been Keilars doing too. He’d certainly surprised her with that.

She thought back to years before, when she’d first arrived in this room.

Six Years Earlier

Fabiana Cortez was browsing the internet for gift ideas. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere for the holidays. She wasn’t particularly religious, and had distanced herself from her family since her accident. That had been a few months ago, and it had taken some adjusting to get used to her new life.

She shifted slightly, what little she could, while she ordered various gifts to be sent to acquaintances.

The factory had shut down two days ago for the holidays, leaving Fabiana mostly alone but for some security and janitorial staff. She’d watched a few movies, shopped and even written a little bit; she had an affection for short stories and she finally had some time to devote to it.

She’d found that being forced to remain in her workplace tended to have the effect that work became her life, relaxing and the like were somewhat foreign concepts to her these days.

Her eyes strayed over the desk clock.

10:48 PM, December 24th

The loneliness settled hard upon her shoulders.

She found herself wishing for any company, one of the security guards to come by maybe.

She didn’t eat anymore, and did find herself hungering for holiday fare, turkey or egg nog.

She sighed.

She’d passed her nodule three hours ago, and wasn’t due for another one at least until tomorrow. She leaned back staring at the ceiling and wondering about perhaps making a video call to some of her remote relatives when she heard a knock on the door.

The rapping jolted her from her meandering thoughts and she sat up.

“Yes?”

The door opened slowly, revealing Keilar Tooms, the conversion specialist who’d “saved” her on that fateful day. The two had grown close since then.

“Hey Fabiana. I heard you were going to be alone today. Thought that I would swing by.”

He was wearing his work clothes of an orange containment suit, it’s upper portion tied at his waist, revealing a white tank top underneath.

“I was putting in some overtime on the factory floor, moving some BIRs around and positioning some new ones. Also, I figured I’d do something about that wall.”

He gestured to the large blank metal wall opposite of Fabianas desk.  
“Well I’m always glad to see you K. Go ahead and pull up a chair.”

She gestured to several of the office chairs in front of her large desk.

Keilar instead walked to the control panel on the side of the wall and punched a few buttons.

“Actually I have something else in mind.”

Slowly the wall began to rotate upward, revealing a large pallet on a forklift, which to Fabiana's utter surprise contained a pine tree, a metal step ladder, large plastic box and metallic tree stand.

“I thought you could use some decorations.”

Fabiana felt herself blush.

She looked away embarrassed.

“You didn’t need to K, but, I mean, thank you.”

Keilar was already bringing the items into the office and then lowered the wall back into place. He then set to work erecting the fir tree in the corner of the room before opening the plastic box. Keilar began to withdraw a series of shiny globes, and squinting a little bit, Fabiana saw that he’d likely fashioned them out of various materials in the conversion workshops.

She wistfully stared at Keilars back as he began to place the ornaments on the fir tree which he’d set in the corner of the office. She’d taken their relationship for granted she realized, it was completely platonic, but now she thought that she might feel a genuine affection for him. He’d helped her, and he’d never asked for anything in return.

Keilar climbed the small step ladder to place more ornaments, pausing occasionally to ask Fabiana where she might like the next one to go. This went on for a while, with Fabiana directing the placement of one shiny globe after the other.

Soon Keilar was finished and he stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Not bad Fabiana. What do you think?”

She self consciously avoided his gaze, focusing on the tree instead.

“It looks amazing K. Thank you so much.”

Keilar walked to her desk and seated himself.  
“I, uh, don’t have any plans tonight. Do you mind if I stick around? I don’t really have anyone to go home to?”

Fabiana turned to stare at him in surprise.

“You never told me you were alone K. No family? No sweetheart?”

Keilar shook his head.

“No. Mom and Dad died six years ago. Car wreck. I wasn’t there.”

Fabiana felt a slight pang at his words. She didn’t get along well with her family, and realized that Keilar had never mentioned his own.

“Besides, I told you before, I’m asexual Fabiana. Not really many sweethearts out there for someone like me.”

Fabiana didn’t quite know what to say. Thinking back she had read something like that in Keilars personnel file, and maybe he had mentioned it before; it was undoubtedly one of the reason he was so good at his job. The work was overtly sexual, and not having any arousal likely made it much easier to remain indifferent to the proceedings that he regularly engaged in.

The room was quiet for a while, before Keilar broke the silence.

“Want to watch a movie? Something for the holidays maybe?”

Fabiana nodded enthusiastically and began pulling up her integrated desk computer.

The two of them browsed through the available films that could be streamed in the office before settling on the classic Jimmy Stewart film, It’s a Wonderful Life.

They didn’t watch the movie, so much as use it as a prompt for their conversation.

They talked about their childhood, their awkward adolescence, their goals for the future.

Fabiana mentioned her frustration at all the doors that had now shut on her following her accident, while Keilar mourned his own frustration at an seeming absence from the human experience because of his sexuality, or lack thereof.

Keilar had slowly moved closer to Fabiana over the night, and while they’d never touched, his closeness was a comfort to her.

The movie ended, with the familiar Auld Lang Syne being chorused by the cast and accompanied by the ringing of bells.

Fabiana found herself dwelling more and more on the lyrics to that song and it’s relevance to her new reality, and her approaching change. She turned to look at Keilar, and found that he was staring back at her.

She looked away in surprise before looking into his eyes again and reaching out with one of her hands.

“K, will you promise me something.”

Keilar smiled, taking her proffered hand in his own callused palm.

“I need to know what it is Fabiana, what’s on your mind.”

She gestured around her.

“I’m not going to have this forever, one of these days I’ll be just like one of those girls you tend to and lock away forever.”

Keilar appeared to be about to interrupt her, opening his mouth slightly but then stopped without prompting. The pause gave Fabiana the resolve she needed.

“We both know it’s true K. When that day comes, will you please be the one who does it, and will you make sure that I’ll be taken care of? That I’ll be happy?”

She felt herself starting to cry and began looking around for a cloth or tissue. She then felt Keilar squeeze her hand reassuringly and looked back, feeling tears flow down her face. He looked hurt and concerned; he was also reaching out with his other hand with a rag from his pocket. Fabiana took it and let go of Keilar’s hand, dabbing her eyes.

She laughed in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. That movie really got to me.”

“Of course I will Fabiana.”

She jerked her head around and looked back at him. His face was now one of determination, a steely gaze behind his spectacles.

“I’ll be here for you. You’re my friend, and we’ll go through this together.”

Fabiana felt her lower lip tremble slightly, and Keilar must have seen it because he leaned forward, carefully not to touch her massive lower bulk and hugged her in a warm embrace. It seemed to jar something loose in Fabiana and she sobbed into the worn fabric of his tank top.

All her fear and frustration that she’d kept to herself for the last few months bubbled up, and out of her in a series of sobs and shuddering gasps. Keilar simply held her, reassuring her that he’d help her as best he could.

After a few minutes she was able to compose herself enough and the two parted.

“Thank you K. Thank you so much.”

Keilar seemed about to pass it away nonchalantly when she cut him off.

“No I mean it. You’ve been an amazing friend, and I needed this. If there’s ever anything you need, please tell me.”

Keilar thought for a moment then nodded.

Six Years Later

Fabiana was brought out of her daydream by a knock at her office door.

“Come in.”

Keilar stepped inside, the helmet of his containment suit under his arm. For all the world he looked the same as he had all those years ago, but there were a few things. His hair was starting to grey in places, and he now wore his glasses far more often than he had back then.

“What’s up Fabiana? How is your condition?”

She looked into his eyes, and an idea, one that had been half formed in her mind for years it seemed, ever since that holiday season all those years ago, moved suddenly to the forefront.

“You promised me something years ago K. You promised you’d help me.”

Keilar looked set back for a moment, as though the memory had been an unexpected one.

“Yes Fabiana, I remember. Is it time?”

She nodded.

“Almost. The intervals are getting very short now. But I had an idea for you, one that might ensure that I’m not stuck in this building for all eternity. One that might give me some modicum of freedom or control.”

Keilar closed the door and drew the blinds, the took a seat in front of the desk, leaning forward intently.

“I’m listening.”


	11. Mk 9 Storage Tank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keilar helps construct an experimental automated BIR

Keilar Tooms stood across the large desk from his friend and coworker Fabiana Cortez. There was a silence that hung in the air before them. Keilar had just heard a proposal from his friend regarding her eventual fate.

Fabiana had accidentally been exposed to several nanolatex transformative substances, and was only prevented from succumbing to their inexorable mutating powers by a jury rigged stop gap transformation. She’d been radically altered to allow her some time, and her bloated shiny midnight black form currently hidden below the large desk between both of them was the result.

The unchecked change of Fabianas transformation had been forestalled by a clever means of distraction, and while it had rendered her immobile with a prodigious rear end, phallus like protuberance and slick skin from the waist down, she at least still had some form of autonomy and self determination.

That was changing though.

Fabiana had felt an acceleration in what had been the glacial pace of her transformation. An acceleration that was later confirmed by testing from technicians at the lab where Keilar and Fabiana both worked.

Ordinarily this would have demanded Keilars immediate attention, but due to a sudden staffing shortage he had been forced to implement conversions of several BIRs or Biological Industrial Receptacle before their deadline. He only had two more to finish, and had some time to consult his friend about her impending change.

Fabiana was looking up at Keilar, while she was a strong woman, he could sense a crack in her emotional armor. The increasing assault of sensation appeared to be taking its toll on her mental condition. When she spoke, there was a tense nervousness underlying her words.

“You promised me something years ago K. You promised you’d help me.”

Keilar looked set back for a moment, as though the memory had been an unexpected one. He had promised her, but he’d always thought that he’d have to make good on it a bit later.

“Yes Fabiana, I remember. Is it time?”

She nodded.

“Almost. The intervals are getting very short now. But I had an idea for you, one that might ensure that I’m not stuck in this building for all eternity. One that might give me some modicum of freedom or control.”

Keilar closed the door and drew the blinds, the took a seat in front of the desk, leaning forward intently.

“I’m listening.”

Fabiana tapped some commands into her tablet, and Keilar pulled out his own as he heard it’s notification chime. Fabiana had sent him a diagram of a new prototype from the APC or Alteration Product Catalog. Keilar read the listing out loud.

“XP-21, Autonomous Control Mask. You think this is the answer?”

Fabiana nodded.

“This is still in development Fabiana, lets see...they’ve only manufactured a dozen and haven’t even tested them yet. Are you sure about this risk?”

Fabiana sighed in an attitude of resignation and exasperation.

“What choice do I have K? It’s not like I can be any worse.”

Keilar pondered this.

“I have an idea. I’ll need to work fast on this. Can you help me draft an amended blueprint for a Mk 9 Container for rapid approval. Have there been any submodels approved for a Mk 9 before?”

Fabiana tapped away on her tablet and then looked back up at Keilar.

“No. What are you planning?”

Keilar stood up.

“I have to get to my office and pull up my design software. I want to test the XP-21 on one of the next BIR before we use it on you Fabiana.”

His deskbound friend gave a determined nod of her head.

“Good idea K. Let me know when it’s ready and I’ll submit it for approval. I’ll go ahead and start fast tracking the requisitions for two of the masks. They should be here tonight.”

Keilar yawned.

“I’ll need to work through the night for this one. Good thing our volunteer is supposed to arrive for conversion tomorrow. Once my blueprint is done I’m going to sleep in the locker room. Call me if you need any help after it’s submission.”

“I’ll do that, oh and K. Thank you.”

Keilar paused at the door.

“Wouldn’t do it for anyone else Fabiana. We’ll do this right.”

Fabiana smiled at Keilar as he closed the door. As he departed she dabbed at her eyes, they were wetter than she’d thought.

Keilar made his way back to his office and worked late into the evening before submitting the blueprint to Fabiana for submission. For her part Fabiana had no difficulty in staying awake, the routine expulsions of synthetic nodules from her bloated artificial lower body more than enough to keep her awake.

Keilar waited until receiving a notification that the amended blueprint had been sent, now dubbed “Mk 9 mod 1 Semi Autonomous Container” before shambling to the employee locker room and passing out on a bench. Before he went to bed he remembered that he’d be given a percentage of profits of any factory or refinery that used his new design. For the first time, the thought was not a comforting one.

Instead, the last think Keilar felt before fading off into exhaustion, was shame.

It was not a call from Fabiana who woke him from his dreamless sleep on a wood bench, still wearing his coveralls, it was a nearby locker slamming closed. Keilar jerked awake at the noise, blearily blinking in the harsh fluorescent lighting in the direction of the disturbance. Mathile Cordeaux, the new maintenance hire was shrugging into her coveralls.

“Late night Mr. Tooms?”

Keilar yawned.

“Yeah, what time is it?”

Mathile checked her watch.

“Seven twenty. I’m on the morning shift. Are you going to need that forklift again today? I’ve been fueling up all the others as well as the self driving carts.”

Keilar shook his head.

“If everything goes well today, we might not need many of those again. I’ll let you know though.”

Keilar stood and began to walk away before pausing and turning around.

“Do you like working here Mathile?”

The maintenance worker seemed to consider the question.

“I do! It’s kind of exotic! Hopefully I can land a job as a Conversion Specialist.”

Keilar frowned slightly.

“Any particular reason you want that job? It’s not easy work.”

Mathile smiled sheepishly.

“Honestly the pay is good. Plus I’m going to school in your field, Bioengineering does appeal to me.”

Keilar nodded.

“I’ll put in a word for you when the time comes. Actually, if you’d like to see one done, we could potentially do so today.”

Mathile nodded.

“When? I have some different jobs to do today, but I might be able to get them done early enough that I could come watch if it’s later in the day.”

Keilar shook his head.

“Probably 11 at the latest. If it gets delayed I’ll let you know.”

The Bioengineer bid Mathile goodbye and began to walk towards the reception area of the building.

Amelie Crosson stepped out of the cab that had driven her in front of the large imposing building. The security guard had waved her through after she’d presented her ID along with her Submission Contract.

She was already blushing with anticipation and excitement, in addition to a little bit of fear. Amelie had been fascinated by BIRs and the conversion process, she’d found the nature of the whole process and the helplessness of the individuals to be incredibly arousing. As she walked towards the entrance to the structure she thought about the path her life had taken that led her to this door, and the fact that she in all likelihood wouldn’t be walking back out of it. She paused outside the doors, watching a delivery truck motor towards a loading dock at the rear of the building.

Amelie had discovered her sexual proclivities for BIRs and nanolatex at an early age, pouring over books on the subject. She’d bought technical manuals and followed trials of those found guilty of crimes that would likely lead to conversions. She’d tried to lead a normal life, but her obsession had made this all but impossible. She’d gone to school to work in nanotechnology, but had found herself unable to focus on her studies. She’d eventually dropped out of the local tech college that taught courses in nanotech, and had meandered, taking part time job after part time job.

Eventually the hounding of her parents grew to be too much, and Amelie decided to just take the plunge. She hadn’t told them what she was doing, just broken contact, saying that she was going away. She had no doubts that they’d try to find her, but she was an adult now, and what she did with her body was her business.

So she’d opened a Submission Contract with Caliph Industries, the leading specialist and distributor in BIRs. She’d elected for the shortest contract, which gave her the most reward. She’d been given a sizeable amount of cash and a vacation of her choice. Amelie had toured two continents and burned through the cash on foods and expensive tours of several countries.

Now she was back in the states, and had reported to her assigned conversion facility; and despite all the experiences she’d had, this was really more exciting to her than anything she’d seen in her last month of travels.

She took a deep breath, stepped through the automatic doors and into the lobby. There was a small middle aged woman behind the receptionists desk who greeted her and asked her to take a seat. Amelie had been about to volunteer her information when the receptionist said that she knew who she was and a conversion specialist would be along shortly.

Amelie sat politely in one of the padded lobby chairs, already feeling aroused at what awaited her today. She rubbed her thighs together slowly, the slick spandex of her tights rubbing with a soft shushing noise. She gripped the edges of her pleated pleather skirt, her fingers curling in a tense crimp. She willed herself to calm down when she heard someone say her name.

“Amelie Crosson?”

She jerked her head up, her neck twinging painfully at the suddenness of her motion and looked towards the voice. When she saw the figure she let out a small squeak of surprise as her cheeks blushed to crimson.

There was a man standing next to the receptionists desk, arms akimbo with the top of his coveralls unzipped and tied around his waist. She recognized him from various articles about his work in the field of Bioengineering and nanotechnology. She stammered out her reply, for once in her life, star struck.

“Y-yes. Are you, Keilar Tooms?”

The man looked taken aback.

“Yes I am. Do I know you?”

She shook her head as she stood up and walked to him, extending her arm for a handshake; like an adoring fan might.

“I’ve read several of your papers on the conversion process that you published in Nanotech Monthly. I particularly liked your observations about molecular bonding in the later stages of a conversion process.”

Keilar seemed to brush aside the babble that came out in a rush.

“Well, thank you I guess. If you’ll come with me we have some things to discuss before we get started with your conversion.”

He began to walk out of the reception area and Amelie followed, her head spinning at what he just said.

“Wait, we? Are you saying you’ll be doing my conversion.”

Keilar looked at her.

“Is that a problem?”

Amelie breathed in sharply.

“No! No problem at all, I just never thought...not even in my wildest dreams…”

Keilar cut her off.

“Listen, Ms Crosson. This is just a job for me ok? I know it means something else to you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. But please understand that for me to do my job effectively I need you to just relax and let things run their course ok?”

Amelie nodded emphatically as the two entered an empty office.

Keilar pulled out a chair for Amelie on one side of an oak table and then sat down on the opposite side. Keilar opened a folder and removed Amelie's contract, then began reading over it with her present. He then paused.

“Now, this is the point that I ask you if this is your final decision. Should you change your mind, you will be unable to re-apply to the conversion program and will have to pay back all funds from your submission contract.”

He slid a sheet of paper over to Amelie and a pen, gesturing the blank highlighted green line.

“When you’re re-”

Keilar didn’t even get to finish the sentence before Amelie seized the pen and scrawled her name on the line as fast as she could. After a moment of shock, Keilar retreived the document, placed it back in the folder and gestured to the door.

“If you’ll follow me please Ms Crosson.”

The two walked back towards the Conversion Wing of the building, having to stop along the way several times as Amelie got distracted by the different BIR’s she saw, naming all of them at just a glance. Begrudgingly, Keilar even allowed her to touch a large swollen Mk 1 Storage tank which was swaying and undulating while suspended from the ceiling. As Amelie ran a hand along its distended abdomen, a barely perceptible moan emanated from the rotund form. At the sound Amelie's knees bent inward and touched, her mind swimming in erotic anticipation. Keilar gently grabbed her arm and guided her towards the Conversion Wing.

After they’d taken a few steps, Amelie resumed obediently walking beside Keilar without his guidance. She turned to her stoic companion, with an edge of mischievous eroticism entering her voice for the first time.

“So what do you have planned for me?

Keilar spoke in a businesslike manner.

“We’re working on a modification to the Mk 9 Storage design. You’ve been selected as a guinea pig so to speak. There are two new pieces of technology that we want to try out, and you’ll be the first run for them.”

Amelie's eyes lit up.

“Ooooh! A Mk 9? That’s the one with the, you know-”

She cupped her hands out ahead of her, pretending to cup a massive set of breasts in front of her own nearly non existent attributes.

Keilar nodded, the two had reached door to one of the conversion workshops and he ushered Amelie inside. She watched and felt her pulse quicken as he closed, then bolted the door.

“Technically you’ll be a Mk 9 mod 1. First of its kind. Please stand in the middle of the room and don’t touch anything.”

“Sure sure, I’ll just-”

She backed to the center of the sparse room, in the large open area of bare concrete floor above a drainage grate.

“-stand here. Out of the way.”

She was excited. Being a new kind of BIR was a prospect she hadn’t even considered. Coupled with being converted by none other than Keilar Tooms himself, made her beyond giddy. It was an emotion similar to what one might find in an adolescent girl if she found out her favorite boy band would be playing at her Prom, and she was voted Prom Queen. Amelie hopped nervously from foot to foot, asking Keilar a myriad of questions about the various equipment in the room.

Keilar for his part was very patient, seeming to enjoy the change in pace from what were normally far from cooperative subjects. Amelie was certainly the most talkative of his many conversions from the week. Keilar was arranging several tools along with the matter applicator, which Amelie was able to identify by both name and model number.

Satisfied that he was ready, Keilar turned to look at his charge and gestured in a somewhat awkward motion at Amelie.

“So, uh. I’m going to put on the rest of my gear. You should strip down.”

Keilar didn’t think Amelie was capable of blushing any redder, but he was proven wrong. The pink tinge was almost red and covered her cheeks and had worked into her ears.

“Oh-Okay then.”

She began to hesitantly shrug out of her blouse and skirt. Keilar meanwhile opened one of the nearby lockers and removed a containment suit and mask, quickly donning both while keeping an eye on Amelie. While she was a volunteer, he still had to be careful. People did sometimes change their mind.

She was petite with a very skinny build, possessing very little in the way of natural curves. Keilar had successfully fastened his mask and respirator along with sliding on his thick work gloves before Amelie had even started to shimmy out of her pleated skirt.

Keilar pondered Amelie's body for a moment. The Mk9 BIR needed a certain amount of body mass for a full conversion, and he was slightly unsure whether his subject even met the required size.

“Amelie, how much do you weigh?”

She looked over at him just as her skirt dropped to the floor then began to kick out of her shoes and socks. She was left wearing a plain white set of bra and panties which seemed to exaggerate her small frame.

“105, give or take.”

Keilar nodded.

That was enough, but he decided that he would conservatively adjust his process just in case.

“Okay. I want to make sure we don’t have any leftover catalyst from this conversion. If you would, please put these on.”

Keilar opened a nearby drawer and withdrew what appeared to be a pair of black rubber leggings and another piece of synthetic fabric. Amelie appeared to be cold in the room, rubbing her hands over her arms and pinching her thighs together. Nevertheless she raised an eyebrow at Keilar.

“Are those structural enhancers?”

Keilar nodded.

“Sort of. I just want to be on the safe side, especially since you’re going to be a test case.”

He handed her the two garments.

“The rest has to come off too you know.”

Amelie nodded then paused.

“Could, could you turn around?”

Keilar shook his head.

“Afraid not. That’s dangerous and negligent in this room. Technically I should be putting this on you myself while you’re cuffed to a chain, but you seem to be cooperative enough that it won’t be necessary.”

Amelie didn’t reply, she looked disappointed if anything as she unclasped her bra, dropping it to the floor like a rag before sliding her panties down and off her legs. After kicking aside the last remnants of her previous life she picked the two new reflective pitch black garments. Knowing the trick to donning a pair of leggings she slid those over her feet first. She knew the purpose of the leggings, but was unsure as to their function.

Amelie had them halfway up her legs when she felt an irised aperture like valve on what would be the rear of the clothing item. Feeling the fabric she found a second. Running from the valves appeared to be a series of small tubes that ran the entire length of the leggins, running in all directions and criss crossing. As she ran the waistband of the tight shiny clothing up to her waist, she felt something round press against her groin.

Glancing down she saw a concave like appearance to the tights, as though it were pressing inwards against her pubic mound. Running her hand over it’s surface, she guessed it was roughly the same diameter as a softball, and very rigid. It was almost like a small circular bowl was nestled between her legs.

The remaining length of the leggings were a tight fit, and ended in a split configuration, isolating her big toe from her other digits. Their constructive nature pinched at Amelies meager waist and rear, while the two valves stuck out from her buttocks like silver dollars.

Looking to Keilar for approval Amelie was rewarded with a nod.

“If you need help with the top let me know.”

On closer examination, the top appeared to basically be the same material and general construction as her leggings. It was all one piece of synth-fabric, that appeared to run across her back, connecting both the sleeves for her arms and hands. On one portion of the garment was a similar valve to the two that now protruded from her buttocks, judging from it’s positioning, it would rest in between her shoulder blades.

Amelie squeezed one arm through the tight glove like opening, wiggling her fingers to match the glove like space at the end, before repeating the process with the other side. Then, lifting it above her head she stretched her arms wide, feeling the strap joining the two sleeves slide across her shoulders. The garment did leave her chest totally bare, and despite her surroundings and her implacable approach of her future, she modestly covered her nipples. The sleeves had the same slick feel and tightness of the leggings, and the glove portions significantly hampered her manual dexterity.

After satisfying himself that the garment was properly affixed to Amelie, Keilar moved across the room to a large cabinet and a nearby nanolatex applicator. From the cabinet he withdrew a small box and a two sets of handcuffs. Raising the later he asked-

“Now, I don’t think I’ll need these, but please stay still for the next few parts ok?”

Amelie nodded, eyeing the cuffs and small box which Keilar set down upon a table. Then he dragged the large applicator machine across the room, one loose caster wheel squeaking across the floor. He flipped a switch, bringing the machine to life and lighting up a display screen, into which Keilar punched a flurry of settings and commands. Next he seized the coiled hose and spray gun like attachment.

“Okay, close your eyes and mouth, and stand with your arms parallel to the ground. Try keeping your legs shoulder width apart. This is going to feel a little strange.”

Amelie did so, with a nervous limb quaking obedience. She bit her lower lip in anticipation as the faint hiss started from the device and she felt a cool vaporous sensation on her neck as the shiny black material of the nanolatex was sprayed over her bare skin.

Working his way around, Keilar slowly covered every inch of Amelie, seamlessly covering her skin and melding it to her two garments. He covered her small breasts, just barely avoiding her nipples which had become pert in the cold air of the room and continued down, finally running a line across her waist at the edge of the leggings.

“Ok, you can open your eyes now.”

Amelie blinked and looked down, her whole form was a reflective midnight black except for the two pink spots of her nipples. She couldn’t tell where the leggings ended and the nanolatex spray began. Slowly she ran her hands over her arms, her hips and her thighs, revelling in the squeak, snap, and pop of rubber on rubber. She marveled as the rubber that was now her skin dimpled where she poked it.

Due to her distraction by the various new sensations, she did notice keilar return to her with two small silver nozzles fringed in black. He didn’t ask her permission before he quickly stepped forward and placed both over her exposed nipples. Amelie gasped as she felt her sensitive flesh drawn within the metal, before they were slowly coated by a slow moving encroachment of the surrounding rubber skin. She touched them tentatively, surprised that her sensitivity had vanished from the exterior, but still feeling a tightness from within.

“This is, strange”

She said.

Keilar walked back to the table and opened the small box. From within it he withdrew a large black mask. To Amelie, it appeared to be a large full face scuba mask. But instead of a clear glass viewplate, it instead was the same reflective black of her new skin. Amelie also noted how the mask appeared to have no straps to hold it in place, simply a round rubber gasket from where it would affix to her face.

“I’ve never seen one of those before.”

Keilar seemed to think for a moment, considering how much to tell his subject.

“It’s new. A way of allowing safe autonomy in a BIR. You will be the first, possibly of a whole new type.”

Amelie grinned sheepishly, looking down towards her feet as a crimson blush flooded her face. Keilar held up the mask to draw her attention back to it.

“This is going to directly interface with your brain patterns and also assist you in future autonomous duties. It will also help control you when you aren’t in use. That said, it won’t completely activate until certain stages in your conversion are reached. So, you’ll be without vision or hearing for a little bit. Do you understand?”

Amelie nodded.

“Good. Now I need you to sit down, just relax. You’ll feel a shortness of breath for a bit but that will soon pass. Just try to relax once everything equalizes and then I’ll continue the process.”

Keilar helped Amelie sit down, a task made somewhat more difficult by the tightness in her new latex skin. It had begun to seep into her body and was already starting to make changes, albeit not ones that were immediately apparent to Amelie.

Once she was in a sitting position Keilar picked up the mask.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

He paused.

“Is, is there anything you’d like to say?”

She met his gaze, and Keilar barely managed to keep his surprise from showing on his face. There was a lustful amorous stare from the young woman. She seemed to radiate a feeling of wanton desire, which was soon manifested in words.

“Hurry up, I’ve waited a long time for this. I need it.”

Keilar moved the mask forward, sealing the gasket against her smooth skin. Amelie appeared to immediately shudder and quake in arousal from having the mask placed over her face before falling flat on her back, running her hands over her body and fondling herself. The snapping and popping of her rubbery fingers moving over her skin echoed through the room.

Behind the mask changes were rapidly manifesting themselves. Amelie had felt a slick cold material flood over her face, sealing her nose, mouth and eyes in darkness as well as passing along the back of her head and running down her neck, until her entire body was the same uniform material. She couldn’t breath, but soon she realized she didn’t need to. From her own obsessive research she knew that on a cellular level, the nanolatex was providing her with the various chemicals needed to survive. It was converting her whole body to its own substance while retaining her mental facilities.

Aside from the feeling of her hands rubbing over her unnaturally smooth skin, feeling her thighs and breasts, along with the cold concrete floor upon which she writhed, Amelie had no other sensory input. She could hear nothing, her world was a black void and virtually tasteless and odorless.

Keilar meanwhile had retrieved a black sphere from his store cabinet, which he then nestled in Amelie's crotch. It was roughly six inches in diameter and fit perfectly in the matching bowl like indentation resting upon her groin. It appeared to adhere itself in place seamlessly with Amelie's groin. A midnight black hand soon reached down and began to explore Amelie's new spherical addition.

Meanwhile, Keilar affixed braided hoses to the nanolatex applicator which he then ran to the two valves on Amelie's buttocks and the other in the middle of her back. Then he flipped a switch on the applicator.

Amelie wasn’t aware of the hoses being attached, but the second the three of them began to pump nanolatex into her form she began to writhe even more. The feeling was like a thousand tendrils, snaking themselves over her thighs, calves, feet, arms and back. She could feel them beginning to increase in size, biceps and triceps forming rigid simulacrum of human muscles and then increasing. Her leg muscles simultaneously grew, glutes, quadriceps and calves increasing in their size and strength. She was starting to feel more powerful than she ever had in her life.

Soon the flow stopped, Keilar having satisfied himself with his subjects growth, and disconnected the hoses he’d attached. Standing back he surveyed his work.

Amelie now looked nothing like the small frail girl who had arrived earlier in the day. She had nearly doubled in size, almost all of it appearing to be muscle mass. While her arms and legs had seen the most growth, it appeared to have even defined her abdominal muscles and pectorals. On the ground, still feeling her new attributes, was an amazonian goddess, clad all in shiny black and wearing a midnight mask which obscured her face.

Not that Keilar was finished, as soon as he’d satisfied himself that this stage of the conversion had been completed without incident, he’d withdrawn two more hoses, attaching them to the silver protuberances that now stood in place of Amelie's nipples. Keilar wondered briefly if she’d behave herself if left alone, then noticed that she was still feeling her new bulging muscles, without even attempting to rise from the floor. She hadn’t even noticed the hoses being clamped to her nipples.

Keilar left making sure to lock the door on his way out. He strode down the Conversion Wing, making his way to a storage unit and finding a familiar 55 gallon drum marked “Inert Fluid.”

Loading the drum onto a hand cart he wheeled it back to his workshop, relieved to see Amelie still on the floor where he’d left her. She had however moved into a sitting position, and now appeared to be experimenting with her new attributes. She flexed her arms, and made various poses while seated.

The motion caused the hoses still attached to her nipples to drag across the floor, making it somewhat difficult for Keilar to catch them and then attach them to a wall mounted pump and manifold. Setting the pressure at the desired output, then attaching the barrel of fluid to the pump, Keilar pushed a button on the pump bringing it to life.

Amelies hands flew to her chest and she fell backward once more, arching her back in pleasure as the fluid surged into her. In accordance with their programming, the nanolatex was now forming to pockets to serve as storage containers using the material of Amelie's chest.

To Amelie, the sensation was wholly new, a rush of warmth and tingling pleasure as she felt her chest begin to round and expand. It soon surpassed a D cup in size and surged on ahead towards deeper letters of the alphabet. Amelie reached up to fondle herself, and feel her growth, a small part of her registered the unnatural roundness of her growing breasts, almost spheroid in shape as they continued to grow. Any reservations she might have had however, were subdued by the increasing pleasure. She was edging closer and closer to an orgasm, the bigger she got.

It was when the expanding fluid forced her to roll over onto her massive chest that a sense of worry finally managed to protrude into her mind. She’d swollen massively, her breasts now almost three feet across, and forcing her to lay atop their mass.

And they were heavy.

Keilar knew that fifty five gallons of the inert fluid weighed in at just under 500 pounds, and the procedure called for all of it to be used in the course of the conversion.

Soon the flow subsided as the last of the fluid in the barrel was pumped into Amelie. She felt pinned in place by the massive weight before her. She kept trying to reach her nipples or her groin, but found that she couldn’t due to her new body shape and the restrictive nature of the nano latex. She was forced to eventually content herself with running her hands over her new spheres. Breasts really wasn’t the right word. The objects attached to her chest were almost comedic parodies of breasts.

They were rigid and taut, huge spheres of blackness that rested on the ground more like two 250 pound iron weights than anything that might once have been found on a human being. Any semblance of fleshy malleability had long since left them.

Amelie was finding her position to be very cumbersome. She was beginning to wonder what the point of this all was when she felt Keilars touch on the side of her mask.

Keilar had found a small tab on the side of the mask and pulled it, opening a small compartment into which he placed a small memory card. He then carefully replaced the small lid on the compartment and waited.

Amelie had felt something click into place, and a moment later, she became aware of a light. The world in front of her began to lighten. At first she didn’t know what she was looking at, but after a moment, words began to take shape in electronic lime green text. They appeared to hover in the empty black void before her.

Loading…

Amelie stopped her struggling and groping, trying to guess what would happen next.

Commencing Final Boot and Conversion for Autonomous BIR: Prototype Mk9 Mod1

If Amelie was still capable of breathing she would be holding her breath. She waited, anxious and excited for whatever came next.

Mental Interface Systems Check  
Safety Pacification Orb...Online  
XP-21 Autonomous Control Mask...Online  
Guidance System...Online  
Mk9 Storage Tanks...Online  
Strength and Mobility Enhancers...Standby  
BIR Mental and Emotional Connections...Online  
Expressive Screen...Online

Preparing Final Instructions

Amelie wondered what half of the words meant. She’d read about a few of them during her obsessive research into the world of BIRs, but she had no idea what Strength or Mobility Enhancers were; she’d also never heard of a Pacification Orb. She supposed it had something to do with the strange round object nestled between her thighs; but could only guess as to its purpose and function.

Then new words appeared on the screen.

Follow the following instructions.

Place your hands in the positions shown.

An image appeared on the screen, showing a wireframe diagram of what she realized was herself. It showed in a primitive animation, the prone figure placing her arms underneath the massive globes of her breasts, so that her arms were directly below the lower swell of each globe, her hands fully extended and almost reaching her nipples.

She did as she was instructed, running her arms along the unyielding roundness of her distended bosom. She tried best to match the green wireframe picture, maneuvering her arms so that they were flush against what she knew were no longer breasts, but storage tanks.

A large green check mark appeared before her, along with the word

HOLD

HOLD

HOLD

She froze, not moving her arms or body, waiting for the next prompt from the screen. Soon another large green check mark appeared followed by more text.

Fusion Complete  
Beginning Final Safety Release on Strength and Mobility Enhancers

Amelie was just beginning to try to guess what that meant, when she became aware of a stiffness in her arms. She tried moving them, and then with a jolt of fear and arousal, realized that they had somehow fused to the skin of her breasts. At the same time, she became aware of a feeling of power, of strength, resilience and seemingly bottomless stamina.

Conversion Complete

Stand

The next words were accompanied by another green lined image of herself, feet shoulder width apart, slowly rising from the ground in a similar fashion to a weight lifters squat. Amelie wasn’t sure if she could do it, her boobs were so heavy.

Stand

The command appeared again and the diagram repeated itself. Shuffling her feet forward, and then resting back on her new toned and enhanced haunches, Amelie strained with her arms and thighs, feeling the gratifying exertion known by many a gym rat to lift her massive chest from the ground.

She almost fell over backward, she’d rocketed upward with a strength unknown to her before. While it hadn't been what one might call easy, there was no way she could have handed this much weight just an hour before.

Another check mark appeared in front of her, and this time the inky blackness changed.

She could see her surroundings, as though looking through the mask. The room was like she remembered it, but less detailed, as though in a primitive 3D rendering. Every object was some shade of green, with blackness delineating the floor and ceiling. To her left was a figure that she supposed must be Keilar Tooms.

She turned her body slowly to face him, her massive breasts cradled in her muscled arms, which themselves were permanently affixed beneath them to serve as a kind of cradle and support.

…

How are you feeling?

The text had appeared again.  
Amelie tried to speak, but found she couldn’t. She wasn’t even aware of a mouth to form words. How was she feeling? She thought. Good she supposed.

Keilar watched the massive form in front of him pause after his question. If the systems were functioning properly, Amelie's mask should have received his messaged and passed it along to her via the interface. He waited, and then nodded in satisfaction as a large green question mark appeared on Amelie's inky black mask, followed by a green check mark.

Keilar nodded, stepping forward and detaching the twin hoses from her nipples.

“Good. Well you’re pretty much done, we just need to put on a few finishing touches, then take you over to inventory. Thank you for being so patient and cooperative.”

Keilar began to pull stencils out of the drawer nearby, arranging the letters and numbers precisely before grabbing a can of spray paint and roll of tape.

“Hold still please.”

A large green check mark appeared.

Keilar affixed the stencil to the left side side of one of Amelie's turgid mounds and made three quick passes with the spray can. BIR-1481 blazed in white paint out for all to see. He then repeated the procedure on the right side of the freakishly ballooned chest. Replacing the components he turned to his latest creation.

“Well, lets see how your navigation system works.”

He cleared his throat.

“BIR-1481, proceed to Inventory room 11B.”

Behind the mask, Amelie saw an arrow appear on the floor and ceiling, leading towards the one exit from the room. Keilar opened the door for her and walked beside her as she exited. The arrows showed her the way through the factory, turning right and left. Amlie, now BIR-1481, began to follow it, ponderously waddling along supporting her giant breasts with her muscled arms and back. With each step she paused, using her new strength to steadily plod down the hall.

She could only see about twenty feet in any direction, it seemed that she wasn’t permitted to see much else. Aside from the hallway, or occasional object in her path, the way ahead was simply pitch black.

She enjoyed the heaviness, the achievement of carrying her heavy tits with each step. She felt powerful, but at the same time, powerless. She could almost sense that she was using all her available strength just to move her body, turgid with fluid, from one place to another. The thought made her giddy.

When she’d decided to volunteer for a BIR, she had never thought she’d be allowed to walk around. She did find herself wishing she could have rubbed and fondled her breasts some more, but the thought exited her head when she took a left and saw a large green X on the ground.

Following the now familiar and easy to understand instructions appearing before her, she stepped onto the X, then slowly squatted down. When the bottoms of her tits touched the ground she rolled forward upon them until she was kneeling on the floor, and resting her upper body atop her transformed mammaries.

Kelar stepped into her field of view.

“Well, you’ll be here until you’re needed. One of our staff will come and fetch you when we need to transport fluids. I know you’ve behaved yourself, but your strength does make you a bit of a liability. This will be goodbye for now, and...welcome to the company I suppose.”

Keilar cleared his throat once more.

“BIR-1481, enter standby mode.”

Amelie wondered what that meant, when the green text once more appeared.

Activating Pacification Orb

Amelie felt the sphere between her thighs suddenly spring to life in a bone rattling vibration. While her sexual organs has been fused over by her conversion, the nano latex had retained several of her erogenous zones and pleasure centers; and her groin was no exception.

The sudden powerful stimulation was too much for her, and she clenched her powerful new thighs around the vibrating globe, pressing it tight against where her snatch had once been. A quaking orgasm washed over her. She seemed to lose sense of herself, as she kicked her legs and bucked her hips in the throes of her debilitating climax.

Assured that his latest conversion wasn’t going anywhere, Keilar left. As he did so, a large green pixelated heart blinked over and over in BIR 1481s mask.


	12. Uncontrolled Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crisis as Fabiana's final change arrives sooner than expected, leaving Keilar to try to improvise a response.

Keilar Tooms had brought in a tablet and some various measuring aids to Fabiana Cortez’s office. The blonde haired tan skinned woman sat behind and under a massive wooden desk, while Keilar took his time documenting her dimensions into the handheld computer.

Due to an industrial accident years before, Fabiana had been exposed to what would have been an existentially threatening cocktail of transformative chemicals. Her continued existence was only possible by the innovative solution by her friend, Keilar Tooms, who had directed the transformative potential of the chemicals coursing through Fabiana's body in a new direction.

That direction being a new supply of organic material pumped directly into Fabiana's altered body.

It had been a stop gap measure to be sure, one that really only left Fabiana appearing to be human from the waist up.

Below her stomach, her form was a bloated mass. A swollen creation that was basically a storage tank for raw material as well as a refinery and assembly line for compact nanolatex nodules. To the layman, Fabiana’s lower form would look like an enormous black rubber phallus jutting from an equally large buttocks.

But the phallus was actually a long glossy black pseudo-organ which shaped and converted organic material stored in her rear buttocks shaped tanks of the same color and sheen.

Fabiana knew that despite her upper appearance and ability to talk, she was a piece of industrial machinery, one that was producing material at an increasing rate. This was the result of the improvisational measure of her transformation. It wasn’t a permanent fix. All of which were reasons for Keilars visit.

Fabiana’s transformation had accelerated in recent days, requiring an increase in the amount of organic mass her storage tanks were filled with, along with the number of nodules she expelled. It wasn’t sustainable, and a more permanent fix was needed.

Keilar was measuring Fabiana’s girth and length, maneuvering under the desk that functioned as workspace and privacy screen. Attached to one end of her false cock was a suction cup the size of an office trash can, which in turn was connected to a transfer hose that delivered her completed nodules to storage.

Fabiana was doing everything she could to allow the situation to pass quickly and without incident, but she couldn’t deny that she felt embarrassed as her longtime friend occasional ran a gloved hand along her rubbery member to guide his measuring devices in place.

Keilar knew how mortified Fabiana must have been, for from beneath the desk came his voice.

“Did, did you want to have a big send off? Like a party or something?”

Relieved to have anything to direct her attention to aside from the undeniably stimulating sensations, Fabiana quickly replied.

“No, I already have been kind of...saying goodbye. One at a time.”

An affirmative grunt came from beneath her desk.

“Almost done here. Shouldn’t take much longer. Our prototype test went off without a hitch, so we’ll definitely go that route.”

Keilar was referring to a recently processed Biological Industrial Receptacle(BIRs) which he had taken care of just recently. BIRs were former convicts, or in the case of the last one, a particularly kinky citizen, who volunteered to be turned into industrial storage containers. It was a fate that Fabiana couldn’t deny. The specific BIR that Keilar referenced had featured a mask over the face which allowed a measure of control and interactivity by the subject. It was a prototype that hopefully would allow some comfort for Fabiana after her final transformation.

Fabiana picked up a tablet from her desk, trying still to ignore Keilars hands as they encircled one of her massive butt cheek storage tanks, trying for another measurement. The tablet had an array of designs that would be her final form. She scrolled from one to the other.

“I think we should go with design Mk99 mod C. It changes the least, and leaves me the most options for after...you know.”

Keilar was backing out from under the desk, and a moment later he was standing before her.

“Mk 99 Mod C. Alright. Let me put your dimensions in real quick.”

He began to swipe on the screen of his tablet, sending information to the shared design parameters the both of them used. Fabiana continued to watch her tablet as the wireframe model changed slightly to match her exact dimensions. According to simulated projections that the two of them could both read after the data was typed in, the design was within tolerances.

There was a moment of silence that stretched out between the two of them, each seeming hesitant to say what needed to come next. Fabiana looked at the “Finalize Design” button on her tablet screen. Finally she set her tablet down and looked at Keilar.

“I think this is it K.”

As far as Keilar knew, no one else called him that. Fabiana had come up with it herself, and didn’t appear to use it around anyone else, likely out of respect.

“You want to finalize the design, or should I do it?”

Fabiana thought about it, before punching in her employee number to the requested prompt on her personal computer.

“If anything goes wrong, it means I’m responsible K. I-”

She stopped herself. She’d been about to say something she’d been mulling over for a few days. Keilar had noticed. He was looking at her.

“What is it Fabiana? I know this is difficult for you. But I’ll be here for you every st-”

“I know K! I know that. You’ve been here for me all along this, but-I’m scared K. I really am.”

Her eyes felt hot, and she knew that she’d start to weep soon. It was all so unfair. She’d never wanted this, she’d wanted so much more than simply becoming a piece of machinery in some factory. She rubbed her eyes with her hands, then felt Keilar touch her shoulder.

“You’ve been very strong Fabiana. I’m so sorry you have to go through this. If there was anything I could do I would. I think we’re doing the best that we can.”

Fabiana’s head was swimming with emotion. Keilar had been her friend for years. He’d been with her before she’d been exposed to the chemicals. They’d both been awkward first time employees together, figuring out the industry. After the accident, Keilar had been the one to formulate a plan to forestall the rampant catalysts and nanolatex coursing through her system. He’d made her what she was right now, and by extension, what she would become.

She might have hated anyone else, had she not read Keilars file.

The stoic man sitting across from her had been perfect for his job. He’d converted hundreds of women into BIRs, and never once needed counseling or retired early from what all deemed to be an emotionally draining job. At every mandatory psychological evaluation he’d demonstrated a stable mental core, and this was all largely in part to his complete lack of sexual desire.

As far as Fabiana knew, Keilar hadn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend, remaining single and without even the vaguest hint at a desire for physical companionship. He possessed nearly no sexual drive.

That wasn’t to say that he was a hermit, or recluse. He socialized about as much as the average person, attending parties and company functions. But here was a level of intimate desire that he appeared to be incapable, or perhaps, unwilling to indulge in.

So of course, this was who Fabiana found herself attracted to, she realized. A planet full of people, and she now realized, that she’d fallen for one who was asexual.

These thoughts all swirled through her head while Fabiana rubbed her eyes as tears dampened her palms. She felt disgusted at this weakness, and at the same time realized that she might not ever cry again. This disturbing thought seemed to only amplify the raw emotions within her, causing her to begin to quake with suppressed sobs.

Then Fabiana felt arms around her, encircling her upper body in a hug with two strong hands meeting on her left side. A cascade of relief, of comfort, and longing rushed through her body and soul. She turned her torso to her right, buried her face in Keilars chest and wept.

Keilar squeezed tighter. He’d known that this moment was likely to come, and felt a pang of guilt. This all wasn’t his fault, there was nothing to be done to prevent it, but somehow he still felt responsible. Fabiana’s small fists clenched tightly at the canvas of Keilars work shirt, as she tried to pull the two of them closer together.

Keilar felt a dampness on his chest as his long time friends tears and spit soaked into his clothing. In between a staccato of sobs Fabiana choked out words.

“I don’t want to be alone K! I’ve had everyone around me just start drifting off. It’s just going to be me, all alone in there.”

Keilar held his friend tightly. Feeling her tremors of frustration and fear. He moved one hand up to her head, running his fingers through her blonde hair before cradling her against him.

“You’re right Fabiana.”

To Keilars surprise his voice cracked, and a wetness he hadn’t experienced in years rolled down his cheeks.

“You’re the last person I’d want this to happen to. But, it’s inevitable. I just want you to be as happy as I can make you, ok? I just want you to be happy.”

Fabiana nodded against Keilars chest, before pushing herself away. The two looked into each others tear streaked faces. Fabiana's mascara as beginning to run, and her hair was matted to her forehead. Fabiana grabbed a tissue, handing one to Keilar while using another to clean her face up.

Keilar began to move away, letting his embracing arms fall to his sides, but Fabiana grabbed one of his hands and looked at him, squeezing his hand in her own.

“I can think of one thing that would help me K. Something only you can do.”

Keilar felt his heart leap, he’d do anything for his friend if it helped ease her into this next phase of her life. He grasped their entwined hands with both of his own.

“What do you need me to do Fabiana?”

She looked at him, and pulled him closer to her, a pink blush forming on her cheekbones.

“Kiss me K.”

It took him by complete surprise. He’d never thought about his friend romantically, he had never really had those kind of thoughts, Keilar couldn’t even remember the last-

Fabiana grabbed Keilars shirt with her free hand and quickly pulled him close, while pulling with their clasped hands. The sudden motion wasn’t at all expected, but the true shock came when she mashed her lips against his own.

Keilar tried to pull away, out of surprise and a sense of propriety, feeling his attempted withdrawal, Fabiana moved her grip on his shirt to the back of his head. She was surprisingly strong, and leaned into him. Keilar had no idea what to do, and let Fabiana instead take the lead. She was clearly enjoying herself, breathing heavily and running her hands along his chest and through his hair.

It was when she moaned that Keilar realized what was happening.

Fabiana was processing another nodule, as it made it’s way slowly along her faux-cock like apendage to it’s vacum hose on the end leading to storage. She was starting to moan and press her chest against Keilars.

She broke away from him briefly and smiled up at him.

“Come on K. Give me a good memory for later.”

She saw the nervousness etched in his face.

“Please.”

Keilar swallowed in a dry throat and nodded, then grinned apprehensively. The kissing had been good, affectionate and hot. But like always, the prospect of anything more was an almost foreign concept to him. But despite this he decided that if it meant a happy existence for Fabiana it was worth any potential temporary discomfort on his part.

He let his partner take the lead, and she guided him to straddle her seated form, one leg on either side of her waist.

Fabiana was biting her lower lip, the sensations of the orb beginning its journey through her was usually extremely pleasurable on its own; with Keilars weight pressing down upon her turgid rubber like appendage, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

The same held true for Keilar, and as Fabiana pulled him in close against her chest once more for more kisses he experienced the wholly unique event of feeling a spherical nodule of nanolatex pass under his groin and buttocks inside Fabiana's member.

Deciding to show some initiative Keilar began to inexpertly hold Fabiana close to him, running his hands along her back, then broke away to kiss her neck.

“Oh yes! K! Yes! Keep going!”

Keilar followed his partners encouragement, thankful that the office was soundproofed, and kissed Fabiana's neck and collarbone.

“Mmmmmmmm, yeah! Right there!”

Keilar continued his amateur ministrations while Fabiana's cries increased in volume while her breathing became heavier and more lustful. Her nails dug into the back of Keilar's shirt while she began to bounce up and down on her yoga ball sized butt cheeks.

These bounces increased in frequency until Fabiana suddenly tensed and shuddered as the vacuum pump at the end of the tube leading to her rubber cock whirred into life.

“Nnmmmmmggggghhh-UHN!”

Fabiana gasped and bucked with her hips. The sensation to Keilar was like straddling a particularly energetic and oddly shaped waterbed.

Finally she collapsed against him as Keilar heard the nodule complete its journey with a muffled wet popping sound. Drool once more was streaming from Fabiana's mouth, her mind temporarily blank in the mental shattering that was the pleasure all Biological Industrial Receptacles felt.

Keilar felt awkward. He didn’t quite “get it,” as people said. He supposed it made biological sense, but he envied those with the sexual desires that enabled such things.

Fabiana slowly emerged from her fuck haze and whispered a near breathless-

“Thank you.”

-into Keilar's shirt.

Almost immediately after the pump to deliver more organic slurry into Fabiana's storage tanks/ass cheeks began its rhythmic humming.

“Mmmmmmm. Thank you K. This is the first time I really enjoyed this!”

She looked up at him, smiling.

Keilar meant to smile back, to reassure her and impart some of the post coital comfort he’d read about, but then he saw her face.

She was pale, much paler than usual. Fabiana was of Hispanic descent and her olive skin tone was much lighter than usual. His concern must have showed on his face, for Fabiana's smile vanished.

“What? What is it K?”

Keilar has an idea what it was, and without asking he reached forward and felt Fabiana's neck, just below her jaw.

“No pulse.”

His voice was cold and clinical, and whatever color was still in Fabiana's cheeks drained away in fear.

“The nanolatex has taken over more of you than we thought. It’s replaced your bodily functions already. We need to move you now and get started.”

“Already? No, we have to have more time, we need-UGGHHNN-“

Keilar stood up from where he straddled Fabiana's lap as she let out a groan and grabbed the edges of her desk.

“No! Not another one so soon! Uggghhnnn!”

The interval on her passing of the nodules had been getting shorter, Keilar now realized that it was almost gone completely. He quickly pulled up a diagram on his personal tablet computer and accessed the control panel that maintained both the inflow of organic material for Fabiana, and the storage of her finished nodules.

Scrolling quickly through the menu, trying to ignore the cries of exertion and pleasure from his colleague, he changed the inflow operation from “Replenish” to “Continuous.” Almost immediately there was a hum as more organic slurry was pumped into Fabiana, filling her large twin gluteal spheres to capacity.

Next Keilar grabbed the office phone and paged the intercom.

“Priority Request. First available workers, bring a Class 2 transport cart to Office 115, first available workers, bring a Class 2 transport cart to Office 115.”

At the increased rate of output as well as the accelerating conversion she was undergoing, the only chance Fabiana had of retaining her form and consciousness was to complete her change inside the Total Immersion Converter, known colloquially as The Tank. It was a massive tank that allowed for larger conversions and was much safer to use.

The trick was going to be getting Fabiana there before she exhausted the remaining organic slurry within herself. Otherwise, the loose transformative compounds still in Fabiana would use her remaining biological mass, and who knew what would happen then.

Keilar continued to punch in commands and orders remotely to various personnel in the factory.

He was in the middle of submitting program orders to the Total Immersion Converter, when Fabiana finished passing her next nodule with an exclamation of pleasure and frustration. Fabiana appeared to not even have a moments respite when the process began again.

“Oh fuck! Why?”

There was then a knock on the office door.

Keilar, eager for an excuse to step out momentarily, exited the room and closed the door behind him.

Outside stood the small form of Mathile Cordeaux, the new female maintenance worker. Behind her was the large flat automated cart that Keilar had requested. His apprehension and disheveled appearance prompted a raised eyebrow from the small woman. Keilar jerked his thumb back at the office doors.

“We need to get Fabiana to The Tank. It’s time.”

A look of concern crossed Mathiles face.

“Already? Geez, that’s too bad. She seemed nice.”

Keilar found the statement a tad impersonal, then dismissed it after a moment of self reflection. He was just as impersonal to most of the BIR conversions he did. It came with the job.

The thought nagged him for a moment.

Was that right? Should the process be so impersonal?

The conversation he’d had with Fabiana had revealed someone afraid of what was to come, did everyone who became a BIR go through the same thing? None of them had a friend like Keilar to guide them through it.

Keilar slammed the door on that part of his brain. He had a job to do right now, and Fabiana's continued existence depended on it.

“I heard you finished that Mk. 9 conversion without me, I wanted to help Mr. Tooms!”

Keilar nodded.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on. I’ll definitely need your assistance with this though.”

Mathile nodded enthusiastically.

“Anything I can do.”

“Good, now you’re going to need to be considerate. Remember Fabiana is a special case, and not your regular BIR volunteer or convict. She’s entitled to more...courtesy.”

“Of course.”

Keilar nodded in approval.

“Good, now let’s get her onto the cart. We’ll have to move fast.”

Keilar opened the door to the office and the two stepped inside. Fabiana looked a mess, her hair was matted and sticking out at odd angles, her smeared makeup had turned her pale face into a kind of impressionist portrait. When Fabiana noticed their presence she quieted herself and began doing everything she could to avoid crying out in pleasure. She was biting her bottom lip and gripping her desk so hard that Keilar could hear the wood surface creaking.

Mathile didn’t say anything and avoided Fabiana's gaze, while Keilar moved to her desk and began to unbolt cleverly hidden fasteners that would allow them to disassemble it from around Fabiana's massive lower form.

The two worked quickly, and soon they had exposed Fabiana's freakishly bloated and distended lower body. Keilar had noted upon his return that both the organic slurry pump and the vacuum pump were in operation. With a quick glance at Fabiana's four foot long shiny rubber phallus, Keilar could see the distinct shapes of three round bumps, nano latex nodules, working towards the clear plastic vacuum hose at the end. Her conversion was now keeping pace with, if not out pacing the inflow of material. There was very little time left.

The nodules were thankfully inert, meaning that Keilar wouldn’t have to worry about any that were lost en route to The Tank, he just hoped that Fabianas internal storage of organic matter didn’t run out before they transported her across the factory to her final destination. Keilar turned to Mathile.

“We don’t have much time. We’ll get her on the cart, and preset it for maximum speed to The Tank. As soon as you send it off, we need to sprint to the locker room and change into our containment suits. Once you're dressed, you need to prep Fabiana for conversion, while I get her mask ready. Do you understand?”

Mathile nodded. Keilar turned to Fabiana.

“Did you get that Fabiana?”

Fabiana looked at him, she jerked her head up and down in an affirmative, lip still clenched in her teeth.

“Good, okay. Let’s go.”

The two struggled with Fabianas weight, but managed to manhandle her huge form onto the cart with the help of the angling flatbed and Fabiana herself lending what help she could.

Keilar punched in the command orders onto the carts waiting input screen, then waited. He still had to disconnect Fabiana from the two hoses that tended to her freakish proportions.

“Go ahead Mathile, get a head start.”

Without any further prompting Mathile sprinted out of the room. Keilar turned to Fabiana, who was loudly vocalizing another nodule being passed through gritted teeth.

“Ready?”

“Mmmhmm!”

Keilar deactivated the vacuum tube and tugged it forcefully from Fabianas throbbing member. It came free with an audible pop. Keilar dropped it to the ground before moving behind Fabiana, where the hose for the organic slurry was plugged into a large orifice in between fabiana's butt cheeks. Keilar shut off the pump and tugged, eliciting a moan from Fabiana. Once free he dropped the hose unceremoniously and hit the go button on the cart.

On it’s own, the automated electric cart zipped out of the office, Fabiana looking back at Keilar with an expression of tense anticipation. Keilar sprinted after, watching the cart speed in a different direction than the locker room. Before he ran down a branching hallway he saw Fabiana jerk, then another nodule flew from the cart, smacking into a nearby wall and rolling along the corridor.

Keilar hurriedly arrived in the dressing room and changed into his containment suit. A full body self contained baggy piece clothing which kept it’s wearer safe from any hazardous transformative chemicals.

He made a quick stop at an equipment locker to grab a large plastic bag containing Fabianas custom ordered mask, before running towards the wing of the building housing the Total Immersion Converter. Along the way he passed several expelled nodules, and found himself hoping that Fabiana hadn’t exhausted her internal reserves of material yet.

He arrived at the room housing the large stainless steel tank in time to see his friend being helped into place on a large cargo net connected to a crane. Mathile was there, holding Fabianas hand. Small black spheres lay all around the two of them, and Mathile had also apparently helped Fabiana had strip out of her clothing. Keilar was appalled to see black rivulets of nano latex running up from Fabiana's waist, like tendrils or vines, forming stripes in her once tan flesh.

Keilar gestured for Mathile to station herself at the crane controls and then began to hurriedly unwrap Fabiana's mask, which in reality would be her new face when all was said and done. The mask was a glossy black, there hadn’t been time to order a different color, and looked like many full face dust or paint masks. But instead of a hole for an oxygen tube or air filter, there was nothing. It was simply a large full face glossy black face shield connected to a rubber gasket.

Keilar knew it would fuse itself in place once he activated the mask, by pressing a small button on the side, and that Fabiana's familiar face would disappear forever. He looked up at his friend, who was staring back at him.

“I-ugh-I wish we had more time K.”

Keilar found himself unable to say anything. Only nodding. He didn’t know what to do. It had come down to this moment, and the thought of sealing away that face which he’d known for so long was abhorrent. Looking down, he saw his hands shaking.

“I-I don’t want you to go Fabiana. We just, didn’t get a chance did we?”

Fabiana shuddered and then cried out as another orb departed her body. Then she reached out and touched his suit over his heart. Keilar could see black rivulets coursing under her skin, all the way from her chest to her fingertips. He felt himself beginning to cry.

“I-Fabiana I can’t just-, I need to tell you-”

Fabiana was crying now, black tears streaking over her smeared makeup on her face, covering it in a glossy coating. She reached out and took the mask from Keilars hands and looked into his own opaque mask.

“I know K. I know. I love you too.”

Keilar wept. Fabiana's voice had been firm, full of acceptance and determination. Then before he could stop her, she raise the mask to her face, clicking the button on the side of the mask activating it’s nanolatex particles, and pressed it against her skin.

The mask adhered immediately to her skin. The world disappeared to Fabiana, she could now only hear some of what was going on around her. She could hear Keilar giving commands to Mathile, and then Fabiana felt the cargo net around her beginning to tighten. She felt herself hoisted up into the air, and grabbed blindly for the netting around her for support. All of her mass settled against the taut netting and elicited another expulsion from her, which she actually heard plop into the tank. This must mean that she was hoisted above it.

Fabiana then felt herself being lowered towards the depths of the waiting tank. She hoped that it would all be over soon, and that Keilar would recover from this trauma before she did.

Keilar was watching from the control booth as the suspended form of Fabiana was lowered towards the waiting ebony surface. He’d checked and double checked the parameters loaded into the waiting pool of nanolatex, and confirmed that it was indeed the custom design he and Fabiana had come up with. If it all went according to plan, she would become a kind of command and control BIR, interfacing with the factory systems and still able to communicate digitally with the rest of the factory. This would hopefully improve production and allow Fabiana to interact with others after her conversion.

Slowly her large form entered the placid water, her massive lower body was soon totally submerged with hardly even a ripple, when Keilar gave the command to sever the net. Fabiana dropped the rest of the way and disappeared beneath the surface.

Keilar pulled up his data screen, scrolling through reports of the electrical and molecular conditions inside the tank, making sure that the conversion progressed without any complications.

Inside the tank, Fabiana felt the onrushing slick fluid rapidly cover and begin to permeate her small amount of remaining human flesh. Soon all sound and sensation faded aside from touch. Her mask remained dark, waiting her final conversion to begin it’s activation phase. Fabiana could feel her fingers stiffening as the humanity left her and was replaced by that of the ubiquitous and versatile nanolatex. It was a amazing substance. Capable of retaining energy and conducting changes on the subatomic level. It was also nigh indestructible.

All of his explained the massive controls and restrictions in place around the product.

She was one of only a dozen people accidently exposed, and there had never been what the industry called, an Uncontrolled Development. That was to say Nanolatex growing and self replicating without a controlling set of guidelines.

Fabiana began to feel a series of growths sprout from her back. They soon began to grow into long tendril like appendages first a foot in length, then progressing to three, then five then longer still. These would be her digital interfaces, to allow her to mentally communicate directly with any computer or piece of hardware her interfaces came into contact with. She found she could already control them somewhat, and used them to coil around her torso, or run along her swollen buttocks.

Maybe she could get used to this after all. It’s not like she wouldn’t still be able to communicate with Keilar or-

The blackness of Fabianas vision was interrupted by a flashing green light, a cursor, her mask was activating.

She watched as the words

Mk 99 Mod C preliminary boot commencing…

Appeared in front of her. She wasn’t sure if she was even seeing this with her eyes, or if those organs had now been converted to something more efficient. Maybe this was actually all playing out in her head. More words began to scroll in front of her.

Interface appendages...detected

Nodule Processor...detected

Organic Storage...detected

Around her she could feel the thick viscous nanolatex, almost like a blanket. Moving her arms and hands through the substance was like moving in slow motion. Her tendrils meandered around under her control, and she found herself marveling at their dexterity and-

Unknown Directives Detected

Fabiana found her trance like thoughts interrupted by those three glowing green words. If she still had a heart it would have started beating faster.

Outside the tank, Keilar stared at the sudden spike in electrical activity with increasing apprehension. He watched in growing horror as the spike increased in size, demonstrating an increase in nanolatex activity. The rate of change was supposed to remain constant, an increase in activity was not a good sign.

Keilar glances up from the screen and froze in horror.

The surface of the tank was roiling, like a pot of water just beginning to boil.

“No…”

“Nononono!”

Keilar knew that what was occurring was only theoretical, it shouldn’t have been possible. If it was what he thought it was though…

Keilar smashed a glass case on the wall next to a large lever. Above it were the words-

“Emergency Neutralization Field”

Pulling this lever would bombard the room with his speed particles that would render any nanolatex inert.

But to do so would permanently stop any transformation currently under way, leaving Fabiana forever in a state of transformation, never to leave her surroundings.

A klaxon began to sound as Keilar screamed for Mathile to run. The diminutive woman needed no further prompting and sprinted from the room. Keilar was soon the only one inside, as soon as Mathile had left he set about isolating the room. He sealed off the air circulation as well as all drainage and plumbing.

If he couldn’t stop this, he could at least contain it.

Keilar grabbed a solitary red handset on the control panel and punched in a number on the nearby keypad.

“Yes. Code Black Emergency. Potential uncontrolled development in progress. Yes. Confirm. Uncontrolled Development.”

He hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the graphs, watching as the spike continued to rise. Perhaps even unaware himself, Keilar began with to whisper to himself.

“Come on Fabiana, pull through.”

Inside the Tank, Fabiana was being bombarded with sensation and with information. She’d figured out how to access the boot menu of her mask, which had successfully connected to her tendrils.

Fabiana was trying to understand what was occurring, but to her it looked like the particulates still loose in her system had entered the pool of nanolatex, and were now trying to self replicate independently of her form.

Try as she might she couldn’t even slow what was nearing an exponential growth. She also knew that if this didn’t stop soon, the Uncontrolled Development would begin to dissolve and convert the material of the containment tank, then whatever it found outside it.

Then Fabiana had an idea, one that she hesitated to pursue, but then realized that like everything in the last few years of her life, was the only choice open to her.

Keilar eyed the rapidly rising spike of nanolatex activity, and was about to yank on the lever which would still the tank, which was now a roiling boil of activity.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Shapes would sometimes form, and then dissipate from the surface. It was terrifying, yet beautiful. Changing prismatic colors almost faster than he could see. He was reminded of the one time a blazing forest fire had gotten within two miles of his house. He’d almost evacuated in the face of certain annihilation; but something compelled him to stay.

It proved to be a fitting comparison, for just as the forest fire had died down and burned itself out; slowly the writhing pool of nanolatex did the same.

As he watched, the spike of activity began to shrink; then passed acceptable levels, arriving at nearly zero activity.

The surface turned the same midnight black, and was as still as a pool in an underground cavern.

Was Fabiana done?

Keilar waited, hoping for any kind of movement to be detected by the tanks sensors.

There was nothing.

Minutes passed, soon the government rapid response team arrived and ushered Keilar, protesting fiercely, from the factory.

Over the next few weeks the tank was continuously monitored for any change, but none seemed evident.

At Keilars recommendation, the tank and it’s contents were placed in an indefinite quarantine, pending further study.

After the months long investigation by a regulatory agency, Keilar and the company were cleared of any wrongdoing, and Fabiana Cortez became the first person declared an “Incomplete BIR Conversion.”

Keilar left the employment soon thereafter, unable to work so close to the quarantined room housing the remaining material that had been his friend, and likely, his only love.

Keilar retired early, he was moderately wealthy and began to obsess over the incident. He began to independently research what had occurred. Years of tedious effort, with little to show for what all agreed was an accident.

Keilar couldn’t understand why the Uncontrolled Development had stopped, and neither could anyone else. If it was a true Uncontrolled Development, it would have exponentially grown, consume all matter it touched. Instead, it had stopped, then seemingly receded all on its own.

It was certainly possible for Fabiana's consciousness to have been retained after all this time, at least theoretically. She could still be there somehow, alone in the darkness, never having finished her conversion to a new form. Given the quarantine in place, she likely never would.

Keilar wanted closure, any kind of answer. It wasn’t until Mathile, who had risen up through positions at the factory, gave Keilar something she’d found.

It wasn’t much, she confessed. Just some statistics about the volume of the tank, as well as the analysis of some trace elements found inside after all these years. But, she said, she thought he’d like to know all the same. A recent test of the previously sealed tank had revealed the an abnormally high concentration of a particular element, aside from the ever present nanolatex.

Potassium.

Keilar had thanked Mathile for the information, and after she’d left had wept uncontrollably.

Fabiana has been a chemistry major before joining the company, and she would know the Periodic letter for potassium…

...was K.

To anyone other than Keilar, it would be a coincidence. But to him, it was hope, it was a narrow strand of optimism, and he vowed then to never let it go.


	13. Epilogue: Routine and Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life moves on.

Routine and Rebirth

22 Years Later

Mathile looked out of her glass fronted office at the large expanse of the factory floor below. She’d been in this business for over two decades, and had seen lots of changes arrive. She’d never thought that she’d rise as far as she had in the industry. She was 46 years old now, and was starting to finally feel her age. All those years ago, when her quasi-mentor had quit following a botched conversion; Mathile had seen the opportunity and taken it. Within just a few months she had gotten her permit for the creation and maintenance of Biological Industrial Receptacles.

She’d thrown herself into her work, how could she not?

Mathile had only joined the company because she was so unbelievably turned on at the idea of being able to change someone. The diminutive woman had become one of the best conversion specialists in the world, being called in to maintain, change or convert all manner of BIRs.

She’d gotten damn good at it, and loved every minute of it. Some people loved their job, but if Mathile had ever been given the chance to fuck a concept like employment, she would have straddled and ridden her profession for all eternity.

But only eight years after starting as a conversion specialist, laws began to be passed. Keilar Tooms, her former mentor, had not been idle following the botched conversion of his friend Fabiana. He’d been using his considerable knowledge and fiscal resources to lobby for legislative change regarding BIRs, under the moniker of The Cortez Foundation for Ethical Conversion.

Ethical. Mathile scoffed at the memory. The way things had been done were ethical enough, it was Keilar Tooms implying otherwise that had brought about change. He’d trumpeted the misfortune of poor Fabiana Cortez in front of TV cameras and before the government committees. That had won them over.

Mathile tried not to think of the particular wing of the factory where Fabiana Cortez had met her fate. It was still sealed off, all these years later and constantly monitored by an on site government employee. The Total Immersion Converter and its room had been encased in concrete, not to be reopened for fear of somehow restarting the uncontrolled nanolatex development which had mysteriously stopped itself.

To Mathile, it felt like all the fun had gone out of the job since the Tooms Act had been hoisted on the many workers who made their living in the nanolatex and nanopolymer industry. Convicts weren’t allowed to volunteer anymore, especially after a high profile leak demonstrating a simple mistaken reshuffling of paperwork had destined one of Keilar Tooms own previous conversions to a rubber imprisonment.

Now the only ones converted were average willing citizens, which to Mathile meant really kinky ones; and they all had requested to be specific BIRs. This completely snarled logistics, and forced the companies to offer incentives.

As if that weren’t bad enough, other legislation had followed which made retrofits on all existing BIRs mandatory. This included connection to communications equipment such as text to speech and the internet, along with allowing some socializing among the BIRs. To top it all off, occasional movement was required if the BIR requested it.

Mathile had never wanted to be a corrections officer, but somehow she’d ended up a strange approximation of prison warden. What had at one time been viewed as nothing more than machinery, now had rights.

Even worse, they could email her.

Mathile scrolled through her tablet as she surveyed her responsibilities from her high office window overlooking the factory floor.

To: Director M. Cordeaux  
From: BIR 1463

Good Morning you cast iron bitch! Still single? How’d that date go you absolute failure? I’d love to go on a date, but oh wait...I can’t. I got turned into a fucking freak by fuckers like you decades ago. Why don’t you come down here and lick my balls you dried up c-

Mathile deleted the email. BIR 1463 was one of the oldest BIRs still in the factory, and really knew how to hold a grudge. Mathile had been only a meaningless maintenance tech at the time, but she’d been there when the convict Patricia Barker had almost escaped her fate. The notion still made Mathile smile, as much as she might protest, Patricia, BIR 1463 would never leave.

That was one condition of the new laws. Anyone who’d been converted to becoming a BIR as a reprieve from a life in prison were never getting changed back.

Director Mathile looked at her next email.

To: Factory 27 Staff ALL  
From: BIR 1461

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGER  
DEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLMETHROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMORE  
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPER  
FUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLMETHROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCK  
FUCKBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICK  
FUCKFILLMETHROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGER  
BIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLME  
THROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGER  
BIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLME  
THROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGER  
BIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLME  
THROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGER  
BIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLME  
THROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMOREFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKBIGGERBIGGER  
BIGGERBIGGERBIGGERBIGGERLONGERDEEPERFUCKMMMMTHICKFUCKFILLMET  
HROATFUCKMEDEEPERMOREMOREMORE

Mathile deleted this email as well. Some of the BIR’s browsed the internet, others wrote staff members hateful emails, then there were the fair few who just wanted to keep living in the sensations of constant orgasmic bombardment. BIR 1463 in particular seemed to still love every minute of their mind blowing orgasmic experience. That wasn’t to say that she’d suffered some kind of mental degradation, none of the BIRs had. One of the tests undergone after their refits was to ensure that they lucidly and explicitly requested to maintain their current forms. A surprising number had elected to do so.

Seeing the identification number for the next email she had from a BIR, Mathile eagerly opened the document.

To: Director M. Cordeaux  
From: BIR 1463

Good morning Mathile,

Thanks again for discussing The Handmaids Tale with me. I really enjoyed reading it, did you have any suggestions for the next book we should tackle? I’d love something a bit more uplifting (Haha) but I’m open to any suggestions you have.

Also if it’s possible myself and the rest of the girls in the Inert Gas Storage room would enjoy a few hours of air circulation this week. The movement that gives us is very pleasant.

Very Respectfully,

Nina Green

Well that was better, Mathile thought. Nina was a convicted murderer who was now a floating rubber ball of lighter than air inert gas. In the emails that the two had exchanged she’d learned that BIR 1463(Nina) had once been a world class athlete; one who’d murdered her abusive husband. She’d given up ever communicating with someone else again, and was enjoying herself to the fullest.

Glancing down at a passageway winding between walls of pipes Mathile saw one of the huge breasted Mk9 BIRs slowly walking along, transporting the fluid in her breasts to a different part of the factory. Elsewhere, a gravid midnight black Mk1 BIR hung from a suspended storage rig, her pendulous belly far and away her dominant feature. She was rubbing absently at her water balloon like stomach while seemingly gazing off into space. Mathile knew instead, she was likely watching a movie or browsing the web using one of the special interface masks all the BIRs now wore.

Down the hall from the Mk 1 was the alcove that one of the factories two Mk 8 dispenser BIRs resided. Mathile couldn’t see her from here, but knew that BIR 1489, who was a kind of microfactory, was one of the major reasons for all the changes that had swept through the industry.

Someone had fucked up, and BIR 1489, formerly Elise Carter, had been transformed against her will. As far as Mathile knew, Elise had been a simple paperwork misfiling; something that would have made Mathile incensed. But something had changed in Elise over the last few years. She’d taken a liking to her predicament, enough to volunteer to remain in her current state even after the error had been exposed by the government investigation. She was by far one of the most mentally active BIRs as well.

She’d actually started a successful second career creating a whole subgenre of erotica online run out of her website called FactoryFapFiction.net. All her stories revolved around BIRs or similarly transformed persons, and given the now mandatory interlinking of all BIRs to the internet, her website had found a niche and literally captive audience. The money had flowed in, and by a strange quirk of fate, Elise Carter was one of the wealthiest residents(employee wasn’t quite the right word) of Factory 27.

Mathile closed her office blinds and then collapsed into her office chair.

All those rubber bodies outside, and she could never fuck them. They were the ultimate unattainable kink. Inside their bodies were gallons upon gallons of dangerous chemicals. Any attempted coupling or lovemaking was potentially deadly to a normal unprotected human.

Mathile was surprised to find that her hand had worked her way down the waist of her skirt, seemingly on its own. She paused. Well, who would object? She ran this factory.

Mathile pulled up a live security camera feed of several rooms in the factory not immediately visible from her office.

In one, row upon row of round bloated figures, like shiny red latex fertility idols sat on their flat pallets squirming what little they could under the ministrations of the rooms myriad pumps, hoses and wires. The Filtration Room was full of BIRs who didn’t do much of anything these days aside from spend minute to minute in a fuck haze. The sensations they constantly underwent, filtering fluid pumped into their massive belly tanks and extracted from their round heavy breasts were enough to prevent any real coherent action.

Mathile thought about touching the gravid bellies of those BIRs, and began writhe her fingers in circular patterns over the front of her already damp panties. She moaned and bit her tongue, then glanced at the other security feed she’d pulled up.

She didn’t know what it was about the Mk 17 BIRs, but they really were her favorite. The freakishly plump lips wrapped around a tube three inches wide, the matte blue latex skin, the upper torso terminating in the swollen bulbous lower form that had completely erased all human characteristics but for a hind of two feet on opposite ends of the round swollen mass.

The particular Mk 17 she was covertly watching, was BIR 1479, and she was in the middle of a agitation cycle. Brain quaking orgasams were the norm as the huge plug, hidden from view under the mound of flesh, vibrated the BIRs whole body and the contents within.

Mathile closed her eyes.

She fantasized about all the slick fleshy bodies she’d seen surrounding her, touching her, maybe even penetrating her. She jammed her hand down her waistband and began to tease and flick her clit, feeling the heat of her arousal build within her.

A small voice in the back of her head spoke up. A voice that had started to increase in insistence these last few years as the crows feet around her eyes became more pronounced and her hair began to grey more.

“Maybe one day. Maybe.”

256 Years Later

To Fabiana Cortez, her existence was seemingly timeless. She drifted in a void unlike anything she’d ever known. She had no idea if she was dead, alive, or maybe something in between. There wasn’t a blackness, there was just nothing. She couldn’t see, touch, taste, hear or smell anything. She couldn’t move.

But she could think.

She’d been thinking for a while.

Her last real action she’d remembered, was when she realized what was happening in the pool of nanolatex around her in the Total Immersion Tank. A theoretical event had occurred, what was called an Uncontrolled Development in the industry. Nanolatex self replicating without restriction or a guiding set of parameters. If unchecked it would consume anything it touched and turn it into more nanolatex.

Fabiana had made the rash decision to directly interface with the rapidly reproducing substance, and then all of her sensations had vanished.

How long ago that had been, she couldn’t have guessed. A while, but she had no way to keep track of time.

She had lost all sense of her own body.

But, now, for the first time in...she had no idea how long, something had changed.

She felt something. As though she were one small being, and was surrounded by millions of others. She sought out the others, tentatively at first, then more insistently. She wasn’t sure how she was doing it, it felt instinctual, like reaching out a hand or letting speak a whisper. But it was none of these things.

She reached out to one of the others, and as soon as she reached out, she felt it draw within herself, and become part of her. She repeated this, over and over.

She couldn’t say how long it took, but it was better than the nothingness she’d experienced before.

Until, seemingly ages later, she found the last one of the others, and took them into herself.

Then she was alone again. She tried to sense around her, but found a seemingly impenetrable wall. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to acquire a sense of self.

Over time she realized that she must have a physical body, but it was unlike anything she’d ever felt, as though it were contained right now, but would definitely be able to move however she wanted if she weren’t in a kind of prison.

She was trying to explore her prison, feel out it’s edges, when she was bombarded by a new sensation.

It was harsh, almost burning, it flowed over her body. It actually was warm. She could feel heat!

Then she realized what it was.

Light.

After all this time, she could actually see! The sensation was astounding, compounded by how she was actually seeing. It was as though she had a crystal clear picture of lights hanging from a ceiling, but seen from millions of different perspectives. It was like what she’d imagined the compound eyes of an insect would be like, but orders of magnitude greater. It would normally be disorienting or even impossible to process, but she somehow was able to take it all in. It was as though her ability to process information had been dramatically increased.

Just as she was coming to terms with having sight once more, she saw a form rapidly closing towards her, before she could react what appeared to be a female form impacted her. The writhing limbs of a humanoid figure seemed to pass within Fabiana, and for the first time she realized that her body was more of a liquid held in a container.

The realization hit her.

She had become the pool of nanolatex, all of it was her. With this realization of self, came a sense of control, and power.

The first thing she did was lift the form from inside her body, forming her liquid, rubbery form into a long arm and plucking the individual from within her, before setting them down gently on the floor outside her tank.

Then, with a sense of excitement and relief, Fabiana used her body to form a humanoid shape, attached by a long slick black tether of nanolatex, and extended it out of the tank, rising up in an almost messianic fashion.

Surrounding the tank were a myriad of forms, Fabiana was shocked to see that several of them appeared to have animal like characteristics. All were clad in white lab coats or hazmat suits.

The foremost among them, closest to Fabianas tank, was a sprawled being that somewhat resembled a bat. She certainly had large bat like ears, a chiropteric nose, and wing like webbing stretched betwen her arms and torso. She looked up at the deitific rubbery figure, hovering above the gathered humanoids. Then the small bat like figure stood, drawing a strange semblance of a lab coat around themselves and stood next to the tank.

“Uhm, yes. Hello? Sorry for the intrusion.”

Fabiana tried to formulate a way to speak. It took her a few minutes, but using what she remembered of speaking so long ago she managed to make the air near her skin vibrate in such a way to form words.

They came out in a buzz like artificial tone.

“Where am I?”

The bat like figures jaw dropped.

“Well, uh. This is certainly surprising. I’ll be happy to answer your questions, but first I must find out one or two things. Are you Fabiana Cortez?”

Fabiana made her puppet like appendage nod its head.

The bat like woman below her began to jot information down on a tablet.

“Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating! You’ll have to bear with us Ms. Cortez, but we’ll bring you up to speed. Lots of time has passed since your accident, I’m sure you have lots of questions, but allow me to be the first to welcome you back, and indeed welcome you to Caliph Industries.”


End file.
